


Dispose the Day

by deathmarkedlove_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-29
Updated: 2007-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathmarkedlove_archivist/pseuds/deathmarkedlove_archivist
Summary: Spike and Xander are caught in a repeating day when Glory's minions try to bring her back. Beginning of season six. PG-13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PG-13
> 
> Summary: Spike and Xander are caught in a repeating day when Glory's minions try to bring her back. Beginning of season six. B/S.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Chapter 1

DAY 1

Dawn approached Spike's crypt and knocked. She smiled, pleased with herself for being the only one to show manners when it came to Spike.

There was no answer so she continued to bang.

Eventually, she heard shuffling sounds and what sounded like furniture being moved.

She was about to open the door and go in when it quickly sprang open. Spike stood back, out of the sun, and glared at her.

"What're you doing here, Niblitt?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"It's five o'clock. School's over."

"Oh."

They stood for another few seconds, staring at one another.

"So, you gonna' let me in?"

"What for?"

"You know, there's a Scoobie meeting in an hour."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you rearranging your furniture?"

"What?"

"I can help."

"I'm not -"

"I won't sweep, though," she giggled. "I draw the line at vamp dust and demon parts."

"I don't have demon parts in my crypt," he said, offended. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

"I thought you were evil," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah, but not disgusting."

"Not to hear Buffy tell it."

"She's got a bias toward the undead and all." He frowned. "Why are you here, again?"

"I need help with my history."

"Can't help you."

"Well, I'm not leaving. I'll keep banging on your door until you can't stand me any more. . . ."

"Already there, luv."

"Funny. So, can I come in, or what?"

Spike shook his head and moved aside so she could enter. She glanced around, shocked. "What happened?"

Blood, and broken bits of furniture, and various weapons were scattered around his crypt.

"Had a few visitors last night." He moved back to his chair, limping as he went, and collapsed into it.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You don't look fine."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "So, what's this desperate history problem you've got, luv?"

 

  
At the Magic Box Buffy, Willow, Xander and Anya sat around the table, talking idly.

Giles approached, a cup of tea in his hand, and a dour _expression.

Buffy grimaced. "What's up, Giles? It's not time for another apocalypse, is it?"

He sat beside Anya, who did her best to look interested. "This is a little more close to home, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"It's Spike."

"He got the chip out!" Xander glanced around the table. "I knew he was acting weird last night. . . ."

"But . . . but, this is really bad, isn't it?" Anya asked. "I mean, we'll have to stake him now, won't we?"

Giles raised his hands. "It's not -"

"You think he'll come after us? Maybe we should put garlic on all the doors . . . "

"Does that really work?" Xander asked. "Because I'm thinking about a much less passive response."

"You don't know that he's gone back to his evil ways," Willow said. "He has changed, you know."

Xander moaned. "Why don't you and Dawn just form a club, Wil?"

"Am I the only one that's noticed all the things Spike has done for us, especially over the summer?" Willow asked. "How many times did he save your life, Xander?"

"Three times," Anya answered, nodding. "But, he pretended it was an accident, or something was in his eye."

"See," Willow said, smugly. "He likes us, even if he won't admit it."

"I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt," Anya agreed.

"When did you become a Spike supporter?" Xander asked.

"When did you become a conclusion-jumper?"

"Always has been. . . . " Willow mumbled.

"I heard that. Giles -?"

"Yes?"

"A little help here. If Spike has his chip out then he's a threat, isn't he?"

"I would imagine so," he answered, fascinated at their quick agitation, "but, a lot of things have changed -."

"Oh, right. Maybe he'll decide to be friends instead. Yeah, of course. Why didn't I see that before?" Xander gestured. "Go back to the life of slaughter and destruction that he craves or hang around us being pathetic and miserable."

Willow glared at him. "I don't think you're being fair, Xander. I think we should talk to him first. Giles?"

Giles gave her a brief smile. "Well, yes. Talking is always best."

The bell on the front door rang, announcing Spike and Dawn.

Spike tossed his smoking blanket aside and hobbled toward them.

Dawn followed him, out of breath. "I didn't think you could move that fast, being crippled and all!" she said, bending and holding her side.

"I gotta' move fast when the sun's chasing me," he explained. "And I am not crippled!"

Dawn raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief. "Broken leg, sucking chest wound?"

"I do not have a sucking chest wound," he said, angrily.

"Maybe we should get you a walker," she snickered.

Spike was appalled. "A wha -?"

"Please. You're a handicapped sticker away from a sweet parking spot at the mall."

Spike stared at her, incredulous. "You take that back -!" He stopped when he noticed everyone staring at him. "Oh, what? It's not another bloody apocalypse, is it?" He craned his neck around to Giles. "You didn't say anything about the end of the world, mate. I gotta' tell ya', I'm not up for another one so soon."

Giles stood and gave an exaggerated sigh. "If you're all quite finished panicking -."

Dawn piped up. "There was panicking?" She moved closer to Spike. "It's the Hellmouth, isn't it? Some icky demony thing is gonna' open it!"

"It's not the Hellmouth, Dawn," Xander said. "It's Spike."

"What about me?"

"You . . . chipless . . . figure it out."

"What are you talkin' about, mate?"

Anya spoke up. "He thinks you're going to go on a killing spree, starting with us." She smiled, unsure. "You, wouldn't, would you? I mean, if you did that then you certainly couldn't come to the wedding."

"He's not coming to our wedding, Ahn."

Spike looked hurt. "Why not? Afraid I'll scare off the relatives?"

Giles cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, but this is getting out-of-hand." He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't think I don't appreciate the enthusiasm, particularly in that keeping everyone's attention is a challenging prospect at the best of times, but we really need to get to the matter at hand."

"You mean he's not chipless?" Willow asked.

"Not as far as I know." He glanced around the table. "And, it's not a bloody apocalypse, either."

"But, you did say it was about Spike," Buffy said.

"What about me?"

Giles sighed. "Maybe we should all sit down?"

They returned to their seats and Spike pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"Do you really have to do that in here?" Anya asked, moving away from him. "It makes the shop smell bad."

"Oh, as opposed to the intoxicating scent you got driftin' around the place already." Spike lit his cigarette and said, "Herbs and entrails are so refreshing. No wonder you have so many customers."

Giles sighed in annoyance. "Spike, you seem to be attracting an unusual amount of violence in the last few weeks. What, exactly, is going on?"

Xander gaped at him. "That's what this meeting's about? Spike's popularity with the demon community?"

"It's getting out-of-hand, Xander."

Spike exhaled a whiff of smoke. "How would you know that?"

Giles turned in his chair to face him. "Willie says you can't set foot in his place without everyone jumping on you, and it would appear that a number of vampires are camping out at the butcher's, apparently in hopes of ambushing you."

Spike shrugged. "It's nothin' to worry about."

"Really? What happened to you last night?"

"Just a little scuffle."

Dawn leaned forward. "You should see his crypt. There was blood and dust everywhere! And all his furniture's broken."

"So, they know where you live now?" Giles asked.

They looked at Spike, who shrugged again, and blew a puff of smoke into the air. "I said it's nothin'. Now, we got any beasties need killin' tonight?"

"Spike this is serious."

"Why do we care about this?" Xander asked.

Giles glared at him. "Because, more vampires are coming to town every day - an undue amount. They seem very determined this time." He looked pointedly at Spike. "Why?"

Spike, arm resting casually on the table, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers, stared back for a minute, then, "A bunch of demons got together and decided to off me." He shrugged again, trying to dismiss it. "They've been tryin' that for the last two years."

Giles simply stared at him, clearly believing there was more to the story.

After a lengthy silence in which it became apparent that Spike wasn't going to elaborate, Giles said, "If you've done something, Spike, I think we all have a right to know."

Spike took a deep breath. "I haven't done anything, and grilling me about it for the next 20 minutes isn't gonna' do anything about the beasties runnin' around out there," he finished, aiming a finger at the front door.

"All right," Giles sighed. "Perhaps we should get on with patrolling."

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "We?"

"I think that, for the time being, we should all help you patrol. You killed six last night. There could be even more tonight. Besides, the quicker we take care of this problem, the quicker things will get back to normal."

 

  
"He's a complete prat."

Xander spluttered. "What!" He gaped at Spike. "You think James Bond is a prat? He's the coolest guy on the planet!"

"Yeah, well, take away his car, the gadgets, and the pretty girls and all that's left is a pitiful wanker with a drinking problem. And, please, jumping over a helicopter with a motorcycle?"

"What's that hue you're wearing there, Spike?" Xander asked. "Pistachio, isn't it?"

Spike scoffed. "You think I envy that soddin' wanker? Someone trying to kill him everywhere he goes and no bloody woman to come home to when the day's done."

Anya raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Sounds like someone else I know."

Spike glared at her. "Hey -."

Xander's jaw dropped. "No woman? The guy's a babe magnet - at least two in every movie!"

Spike scoffed. "Makes you wonder why he can't keep a girl."

"Wha -?" Xander started, stunned, but Buffy cut him off.

"Can you guys keep it down up there? We're here to slay demons, not run them off."

Spike stopped and waited for her to catch up. He fell in step beside her, still limping.

She gave him a sideways look. "You sure you're up to patrolling?"

"Concerned about me, pet?" he asked, a cocky grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm concerned that I might have to save your butt tonight."

"So, you think my butt is worth saving?" He raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a hopeful look.

She glared at him. "I don't need you, Spike, and I don't want you to get one of us killed tonight."

She walked away from him. It wasn't until she was several steps away that the realization of what she'd said hit her. She only meant that she didn't need him tonight. The whole gang was patrolling and they could probably handle things. Maybe he knew what she meant. She kept walking, wanting him to call her back and say something sexist or annoying, but he didn't. She sighed and stopped. She turned around. He was standing where she'd left him, smoking another cigarette, and looking at the ground.

He glanced up when he realized she'd stopped and was watching him. Stupid wanker, he thought. Why do you take everything she says like a stake through the heart?

"Just waiting for Red," he said, awkwardly, gesturing with his free hand.

Why does he take everything so hard? she thought. Maybe because I have the sensitivity of a brick. She opened her mouth to call him over, but Willow caught up with Spike then, and he started talking to her.

"So, you got that ball o' sunshine spell worked out yet?" he asked.

Willow nodded, pleased at his apparent interest. "Yep. Don't worry, I won't use it when you're around."

"I appreciate it, Red." He glanced up to see Buffy watching them. He looked away. Was she still angry? He couldn't tell. She was right, though. She didn't need him. Never really did.

Ten minutes later they decided to split up as the group slaying wasn't terribly productive, mostly because they couldn't stop talking.

Buffy didn't want to upset Spike anymore than she already had, but she still felt obligated to ask if he felt well enough to patrol alone.

"What?" he spluttered. "You think I need someone to hold my hand?"

"That's not what I said, Spike, so just calm down."

"Hey!" Spike yelled, jabbing a finger at her. "I've taken eight . . ." he spluttered, ". . . ten - sometimes twelve vamps at a time!" he stammered. "I'm the scourge of the underworld, I'll have you know!"

Xander and Giles glanced skyward in silent scorn.

Buffy decided to just let it go. "Let's meet back here in 30 minutes."

 

  
Buffy got lucky almost immediately as two vamps jumped out at her, lunging awkwardly at her.

She sidestepped and whipped out her stake. "That was pathetic." She dusted the first one as he turned around to have another go. The second growled and assumed a fighting stance.

"We're not all pathetic, Slayer."

"We'll see."

 

  
"Spike," the demon sneered. "Shouldn't you be home, dusting something?" He was mottled-gray with little horns scattered haphazardly around his head and face. He wasn't remotely appealing, but it didn't seem to bother him.

A vampire to Spike's left spoke up next. "I heard the Slayer makes you babysit, Spike."

They all laughed.

Great, Spike thought, my utter wankery is a subject of conversation in the underworld.

The vamp launched himself at Spike, who whirled out of reach, his coat billowing around him. He reached out as the vamp lunged past him, grabbed it by the head, and snapped its neck, sending the vamp twisting in mid air.

Spike turned a chilling look on the remaining vamps. They didn't look quite as eager. This was William the Bloody, after all, not some pathetic has-been they'd been told of.

Spike, for his part, wondered just when he'd lost his feared status. Even with the chip, they new he could kill them and was remarkably adept at it. Maybe a demon-killing rampage would get him a little respect. If he spent all has time at it, he could get it done. The daylight wouldn't stop him. It was an inconvenience - nothing more. He could clean out all the vamp nests in Sunnydale in about two weeks. Of course, if he did that it would probably make Buffy mad - it was hard to tell with her - and he'd probably miss Passions, too. Spike grunted. He WAS a wanker.

As the fight progressed and more and more vamps joined in the melee, Spike got the uncomfortable feeling he'd been ambushed. He whirled around, ready to face the next two that were already coming, when something hard hit him in the back. He fell to his knees, just as the vamps jumped on him. He fell back, hitting the ground hard. His attackers immediately started pounding on him. Above him, he could see the demon standing back, holding a large club in his hand. He seemed content for the time to let the vamps pound on Spike.

Spike howled in rage and pain, his fist connecting solidly with one of the vamps. The blow knocked him off of Spike and nearly twenty feet away, where he smashed head first into a tree.

Spike's hand shot up, gripping the remaining vamp by the throat. He let out a strangled noise and clawed at Spike's hand.

The demon chose that moment to lend a hand. He raised his club, intending to smash it into Spike's head.

Spike, however, noticed, and his grip on the vamp tightened, despite the blows he was taking to his chest and abdomen. He jerked the vamp over on top of him, just as the blow fell. It hit the vamp solidly in the back of the head, making a sickening, squishy sound. The vamp went limp and Spike tossed him aside.

Spike rolled to his feet as the demon gazed at his handiwork.

"Stupid vampire," the demon muttered. He turned to Spike, raising the club again.

 

  
"You think he needs help?" Giles asked, approaching Buffy.

She turned to look, just in time to see Spike take a club to the chest. The impact knocked him thirty feet and he smashed into a tree. Two vampires jumped on him, dragged him into the open, and started kicking him.

"Yep," she said, and started running.

 

  
Spike nearly made it to his feet when a vicious blow caught him in his wounded side. He gasped in shock and collapsed.

They kept kicking him. This might be it, he thought.

He heaved himself up again and managed a quick glance. He could see Buffy and the gang running to help him. They might make it in time to save his life.

That thought made him want to heave. He couldn't lie there and let Buffy and her git patrol rescue him. His life was full of enough humiliation; he couldn't see adding another story to the growing lore of 'Spike's Unlife.'

He rolled onto his back, grabbed the next foot that tried to kick him, and gave it a brutal twist. He heard a satisfying snap and howl, then he was on his knees and assaulting the next vamp.

The demon, sensing the worm had turned, bowled into them, sending Spike and his attackers sprawling.

Spike was the first to get to his feet. He lunged at the demon and effortlessly plucked the club from his hands. Spike then jabbed quickly to his right, skewering a vamp with the end of the club. He turned to dust, and Spike flipped the club end-over-end and staked the next one. He had to duck as a third lunged at him. The vamp sailed over Spike's back and rolled on the ground behind him. Spike whirled and kicked the vampire as he tried to get up, then staked him in the back. He spun around to face the demon.

Buffy and Xander were the first on the scene. They quickly realized that Spike didn't need them and that several of the vampires were waking up. They leapt into a wild staking session, catching most of them while still disoriented.

Buffy, stake in hand, turned to Spike. He was standing over the demon, looking dazed.

A lone vampire, obviously unconcerned that the odds had turned against him, foolishly leapt at Spike.

"Spike, behind you!"

Spike twisted around as the vamp pounced. He caught him by his jacket, swung him around, and dropped him on top of the demon. He then rammed the end of the club through the startled vampire's heart.

Buffy and Xander, more than a little stunned by the spectacle, approached Spike warily.

He took a step back from the demon and stood, swaying slightly, the club hanging loosely from his hand.

"Spike?" Buffy asked, carefully.

He glanced at her, dropping the club.

"You okay?" she asked.

He tried to shrug, but he nearly fell. She reached out and caught his arm, steadying him.

Willow, Giles and Anya joined them, panting and bending over to try and catch their breath.

"You guys okay?" Buffy asked, letting go of Spike.

"Oh, yes," Giles wheezed, "just . . . didn't think I'd have the wind . . . for that final sprint."

As Spike calmed a bit, he realized his side was hurting. He put a hand up and felt the blood soaking through his T-shirt.

Buffy noticed him holding his side. "Are you all right?"

"What?" He dropped his hand to his side. "Yeah, fine."

Buffy nodded. "Good work, guys. Maybe we should do the group slaying thing more often."

"Please," Spike said, rolling his eyes and gesturing at them. "We'd spend all our time savin' their a -"

Buffy smacked him in the side before he could finish. He gave an involuntary wince and took a step back.

Buffy gave him her look that boded ill for his prospective happiness, and said, "Not hurt, huh?"

"It's from last night. It's 'bout healed up, Slayer. Nothin' to get yer knickers in a twist over."

"I hate that, so stop saying it." As though he would. She shook her head. He'd probably say it every chance he got. "Come here."

Spike sighed and moved closer to her, trying not to breathe. He'd gotten into the very bad habit of breathing around her, just so he could smell her scent, her perfume, her shampoo. It all mixed together to make a mind-numbing, heady fragrance that drove him crazy. 'Course, it wasn't just her smell that goaded him to poetic musing. The moonlight did remarkable things to her hair, making it shimmer and. . . .

"Spike?"

"Huh?"

"Did you get hit in the head, too? I said, lift up your shirt."

He did as she asked and a collective gasp of revulsion went up from the group.

"Timing was great, but could you sound a little more disgusted?" Spike asked.

Xander peered at Spike's side. "That's gotta' hurt."

Buffy's mouth twisted into a grimace. "What did this? A sword?"

"Axe," Spike answered.

"You've been walking around with an AXE wound all day?" Buffy said, irritated.

"How did . . . ?" Willow said, then, "Did it . . . I mean . . . never mind."

A malicious grin tweaked the corner of his mouth. "Went in deep," he said, motioning with his other hand. "Right between the ribs and straight into the lung -."

"Eeww. . . ."

"Spike -."

"Then it broke off and got stuck. Hurt like hell -."

"Spike, we really don't need -."

"Took me twenty minutes to pry that out. I think part of my lung came with it." He shrugged. "Good thing I don't use it much."

"Thanks for the graphic account," Buffy said. "I'll know better next time."

"Perhaps we should call it a night," Giles suggested.

As they made their way out of the cemetery, Buffy dropped back to walk with Spike.

He glanced warily at her. What did she want? Was she mad?

"Spike. . . ." Should I apologize for earlier? she wondered. He's probably already forgotten. No sense bringing it up. "How'd last night go?" she asked, uncomfortably.

Spike frowned at her in confusion, then shrugged. "Okay. I Like watchin' the Niblitt."

Buffy nodded. "Wil and I just needed a little bonding time."

"How'd that go?"

"Okay." What to say now? She didn't really want to have a conversation with Spike, did she? Could they actually have a conversation that didn't end with one or both of them yelling? It was worth a shot. She took a breath and dove in. "Tara mentioned last night that she still owes you a thank you," she said. She could apologize by boosting his ego a bit.

"For what?"

"Well, you know she's gone to visit her family, trying to make up with them and all, and it made her think of when they were here last year."

Spike frowned.

"You hit her in the nose to prove she wasn't a demon," Buffy prompted.

"Oh, yeah." He smiled. "Enjoyed that."

"Well, maybe I'll tell her to forget her thank you, then," Buffy said, annoyed. "Like you'd care anyway."

"Well, I wouldn't know HOW I'd feel," Spike replied, indignantly. "It's not like anyone's ever thanked me for anything."

"When have you ever done anything to be thanked for?" she shot back.

"How 'bout last night?" he reminded her. "Watchin' the Niblitt? Which I do pretty frequently, come to think of it."

Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Like you have anything better to do."

"I'll have you know I have lots of things to do when I'm not hangin' around you lot."

"Really. Name one."

"I do not have to justify my time to you, Slayer."

"Maybe you should," she replied, "being evil and all."

"Yeah, well maybe I'll have to check my social calendar next time you want a babysitter."

"THIS is your social life, Spike," she said, waving an arm around. "It's as pathetic as mine."

Spike really couldn't argue with her on that point, so he let it go. Besides, his entire body hurt and his usually smooth walk was turning into a drunken lurch. Much as he enjoyed verbal sparring, he just didn't have the energy.

"And, can you stop teaching Dawn your versions of her favorite games?" Buffy said, wholly abandoning her desire for a non-combative discussion. "Her friends' parents are starting to complain."

"What is wrong with my games?"

"Sunnyhell Monopoly?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Where landing on free parking lets you kill the player to your left?"

"Have you played Monopoly?" Spike asked, incredulously. "It's the game that doesn't end. My rules keep the game shorter."

"And how about Life?"

"Unlife," Spike corrected.

She rolled her eyes. "My point exactly. All the players spend the game trying to turn each other into vampires and steal all their stuff."

Spike laughed. "That's actually harder than it sounds. . . ." He trailed off as Buffy glared at him.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes until Buffy realized they weren't keeping up. She glanced at Spike. He was moving slower with each step and she'd unconsciously matched her pace to his. She sighed and grabbed his arm.

Spike jumped.

"I'm not gonna' hit you, Spike," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just . . . giving you a hand. I don't want to be out here all night."

"Well, give a bloke some warnin', Slayer," he said, relaxing and leaning comfortably on her.

As they walked, Spike reflected on his day. It had started off bad, what with the battle axe wound and Dawn waking him up to quiz him on the Revolutionary War, but it had picked up nicely.

He glanced down at Buffy. This was nice, he thought. It was enough. She may never come to love him, or even like him, but walking with her, arm in arm, on a moonlit night was . . . perfect - as long as neither of them spoke.

He closed his eyes. He didn't want it to end.

"Spike?"

He felt her arm snake around his waist and he smiled, delighting in her nearness. There was something he couldn't quite define, something he'd never felt before. It was more than simple pleasure from her touch, it was . . . contentment. Funny how it can make a bloke feel light-headed.

"Spike?"

He tried to open his eyes, but they were heavy and he just didn't have the energy. He felt fingers at the back of his head, lifting it off the sidewalk. Buffy. Why was he on the ground? Had she hit him?

"Giles! I need some help back here!"

Spike forced his eyes open. He wanted to see her. She was looking at him strangely. Was that concern in her eyes? Or, was she annoyed because it was late and he was being a load? He sighed. It didn't matter. He could pretend. He closed his eyes again. Let all my nights end like this, and I'll die a happy man.


	2. Chapter 2

DAY 2

Spike opened his eyes.

Something was wrong.

He was lying on the floor in his crypt. He pushed himself up and let out a groan. His entire torso was on fire. Still propped awkwardly, he glanced down. He was lying in a pool of blood - a lot of blood. He dropped his head a bit and saw that it was his. It was dripping from his side, high up, and just under the left breast.

He pushed himself up and leaned against his sarcophagus. He closed his eyes momentarily, allowing the room to settle down a bit. He gingerly fingered the wound in his side and was startled when he felt a thick sliver of metal buried there.

His eyes shot open and he looked down. Something was seriously off. He clutched at the tear in his shirt and ripped it open.

Spike stared.

A three inch fragment of metal was imbedded in him - again. He touched it, lightly, knowing as he did that it was from his axe. It was the same wound he'd had yesterday morning. But, that was impossible.

Spike jerked his head up and looked around his crypt. Everything was exactly as it had been after the fight. He'd spent thirty minutes cleaning up the blood and dust and righting the furniture, and now it looked like he hadn't done a thing.

Spike frowned and glanced around some more. He felt panic rise in his throat. Had he been dreaming? He didn't feel 100% at the moment. Maybe he was hallucinating.

He had to find Giles. He would know. He tried to get up, but gasped in pain. He looked down and grimaced. He'd have to get that metal out - again. Spike closed his eyes, gripped it with trembling hands, and started working it free.

 

  
Giles was in his kitchen, making coffee, when a loud, insistent pounding threatened to splinter his front door. He immediately dropped what he was doing and raced to answer it. No one would be making that much noise at this hour without a desperate problem.

He flung the door open and stared at a blanket-clad Spike. The smoking blanket abruptly burst into flames and Spike shouted.

Giles grabbed Spike and pulled him inside, ripping the blanket from him and tossing it on the floor. He quickly stamped it out, then turned to stare at Spike.

"Spike, what are you doing out at this hour?" He glanced around him. "Is something after you?"

"What day is it, Rupert?" Spike asked, anxiously.

"What?"

"The day, you prat!"

"It's Wednesday, Spike." Giles, said, annoyed. He continued to stare at Spike. He was clearly agitated and, upon closer inspection, seriously wounded.

"Spike, what happened?" He took him by the arm and pulled him over to the sofa. He pushed him down, then went to the bathroom for a first aid kit. When he returned, Spike was still sitting where he'd left him, staring at the wall. He had all the appearance of a man trying desperately to work something out.

Giles sat on the coffee table in front of him and pried Spike's shirt away from the wound in his side.

"Rupert, you remember what we all did last night?" Spike asked, suddenly.

Giles was caught off guard by the odd question. "Well . . . yes, we, uh . . . that is . . . Willow and I were at the Magic Box quite late. She was working on one of her spells and I was engaged in a bit of research." He placed a bandage over Spike's wound. "Here, hold this there."

Spike held the bandage.

"I'll have to wrap that up." He turned back to the kit.

"Don't worry about it," Spike mumbled, then leaned forward. He stared intently at Giles. "You don't remember all of us patrolling? The whole gang?"

Giles gave him a blank look.

The phone rang and he gratefully got up to answer it.

"Yes?"

"Giles, it's Xander."

"Is something wrong?"

"You think something's wrong, too! Thank God! Anya doesn't -!"

"Xander, I was asking YOU if something was wrong. You're usually at work by now."

"You mean you . . . ?"

Giles waited, but, as Xander seemed to have forgot he was on the phone, Giles had to renew their conversation.

"Xander, are you there?"

"Giles . . . what day is it?"

A shocked look crossed Giles' face and he turned to look at Spike.

"Giles?"

"Spike's here, and he just asked me the same thing."

There was a moment of silence, then, "I'll be right there."

 

  
Forty minutes later the entire Scoobie gang was assembled at Giles' house.

"I'm sorry, I just don't believe it," Buffy said. "I know what I did yesterday." She pointed to Xander. "And so do you, Xand! You went to work, then stopped by the Magic Box to pick up Anya. You complained for fifteen minutes about sheet rock and dry wall stilts -."

"That was the day before," Xander interrupted.

Giles cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should determine what everyone remembers."

Anya raised her hand. "I spent all day with Giles and he tried to get me to do the inventory. We argued about that for most of the day."

"Yes," Giles said. "We agreed to do it today."

"We already did it," Xander said, "and I'm not counting the frog eyes again." He looked at Giles. "You have 86, by the way."

They were silent for a minute. Finally, Giles spoke. "What happened that you were at the Magic Box with us all day, Xander?"

"I went to work like I usually do, but an hour later I tripped over a pile of bricks, lost my hard hat, stood up and got beaned in the back of the head with a 2 x 8. I had a little concussion, so I had to take the rest of the day off."

"I see." Giles sat, and considered the situation.

Xander, eager to convince them, continued. "We had a Scoobie meeting at six. It was about Spike and the large target he now has on his chest. We thought it would be safer to patrol together." He proceeded to detail the rest of the night, but he didn't make much of an impression on anyone.

Giles said, "Perhaps we should consider the possibility that you and Spike were affected by something that's causing . . . well . . . a hallucination of sorts."

"I am not off my rocker, Giles," Xander said. "And, Spike -." He gestured at the vampire on the couch. "Okay, Spike's asleep, but I'm pretty sure he's not crazy, either. Evil and disturbing, yeah, but not insane."

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, considering whether or not to believe.

Willow suggested they do a little research to see if it was actually possible to loop a day, but, eventually, they had to go to the Magic Box for more reference material. They left Spike sleeping on Giles' couch.

At six they all returned and found Spike watching television.

"Spike. Feeling any better?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. So, what's the plan?" he asked, switching off the TV.

Giles sighed and sat in the armchair. "We don't exactly have one," he admitted.

"Come again?"

"We haven't been able to find a spell that does what you and Xander are suggesting."

Willow looked at him helplessly. "Let's face it, Spike, who would want to do something like this? How does it benefit anyone?"

Spike looked confused. He hadn't really thought about a motive. "Maybe someone wants to rob a bank or nick some nice rocks from the jewelers."

"They'd lose it all when the day started again. And if the day didn't reset itself, they'd probably be arrested."

"Maybe it's someone bein' meticulous and all. You know, casin' the joint?"

Giles considered it. "I suppose it would be helpful to know everything everyone was going to do beforehand, but. . . ." He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "it just seems awfully elaborate."

"Maybe it was only one day," Anya said, hopefully. "How do we know it's going to keep happening?"

Xander gave her a stunned look. "Ahn, you haven't watched nearly enough science fiction. These things never stop on their own. The day just keeps looping until . . . well until. . . ."

"Until the only people who know anything's wrong go completely off their top," Spike finished.

"Uh, yeah."

Two hours later Buffy decided to patrol. Spike and Xander couldn't see the point, but remembering how many vamps they'd staked the night before, decided to go with her. Anya went with them, and Giles and Willow stayed behind.

Spike and Xander trudged through the cemetery, obviously lacking enthusiasm.

"If you guys don't look a little more alert," Buffy said, glancing over her shoulder at them, "something nasty is gonna' jump out and have you for a late night snack."

Spike and Xander exchanged a look.

"Think it would matter?" Xander asked.

"Don't know. Hate to find out, though."

Buffy and Anya stopped and waited for Spike and Xander to catch up.

"Spike, are you sure you feel up to patrolling tonight?" Buffy asked. "You look like -."

"He's fine," Xander answered, abruptly.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. "You guys aren't gonna' start finishing each other's sentences, are you? 'Cause, I don't think I can take that."

"Look," Xander said, "I just don't want a repeat of last night's arguments. Okay?"

"We argued last night?"

"When don't you two argue?"

"Why are we doin' this?" Spike asked, abruptly.

"'Cause this is what we do," Buffy explained. "We search and we slay. Sometimes we have snacks after."

Spike stared at her, annoyed. "I mean, we should be lookin' for whoever did this spell and breakin' them in two before we have to relive this soddin' day again."

"How do we find them?" Buffy asked, patiently.

"How 'bout the usual questions and beatings session at Willie's? Lots of uglies hang out there. Lots of other places, too. We just gotta' look for 'em."

Xander took a deep breath. "I hate myself for saying this, but I agree with Spike."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but gave in, nonetheless, and they headed for Willie's. They didn't make it, however, because half the demon population was already out looking for Spike.

"Look, I'll take care of 'em," Spike said.

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "Alone?"

"I'm the reason they're here, luv."

She gaped at him. "I never thought I'd see you motivated by guilt. You're not growing a conscience, are you, Spike?"

He gave her an annoyed look. "You're my conscience, luv. I never do anything without wondering 'what would Buffy think?'"

She looked uncomfortable. Spike looked away. He'd done it again - said something stupid. He could feel her distancing herself from him. He wanted to kick himself, but Buffy would probably do that eventually.

"I'm not leaving you here alone, Spike," she said, firmly. "They'll kill you."

"Look, I can hold them off while you three get on with what we came to do."

Xander gestured. "We could question these guys."

Anya studied the vamps advancing on them. "I don't think they know anything. They would've been gloating about it by now."

Buffy refused to leave, and they managed to hold their own for the next ten minutes. Buffy gradually noticed their numbers decreasing, despite her, Xander and Anya having only staked five vamps between them.

Buffy glanced around in confusion, then spotted Spike across the street, in front of a mechanic's shop. Four vampires were piled on top of him but, amazingly, he was still on his feet. He was staggering around, trying to shake them off, when the whole mass plunged through the garage door.

Buffy plunged her stake into two vamps in quick succession. They turned to dust and, with the brief opening that allowed, they rushed across the street to Spike.

They couldn't see him at first - he was on the ground and the vamps had buried him - but as they neared, they saw his leg protruding from the mound of bodies.

Buffy sighed in relief. If anyone was going to kill Spike, it would be her. She lunged at them and started pulling them off him and tossing them away. Xander staked them as they flew toward him and they quickly uncovered Spike.

He pushed himself up and watched as Buffy battled the last two vampires. With their numbers whittled away, they lost their enthusiasm and ran.

Buffy let them go and she turned to Spike.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled. He stumbled forward and fell. She caught him before he hit the pavement.

"Spike," she sighed, shaking her head. "I'm impressed. If anyone can infuriate an entire town of vampires, it's you."

"Thanks," he whispered, a weak smile on his lips, then drifted into oblivion.

 

  
DAY 3

"Spike, I really must insist on knowing why these vampires are so eager to kill you," Giles said.

Xander and Spike had gone to Giles immediately upon waking. Giles, however, was more concerned with Spike's nocturnal activities than any looping day.

"From what you and Xander have told me, you've been attacked the last two days - days which the two of you contend are repeating themselves -."

"They are Giles," Xander interrupted. He was pacing in agitation.

"Yes, all right." He cleared his throat. "We'll get back to that. These vampires didn't just happen upon you, Spike. They are actively seeking you out."

"So?" Spike said, wearily. He was tired and frustrated and was beginning to think there was no way out.

Giles became angry. "Spike, you presume too much on our good will. Regardless of your constant presence and Buffy's unwillingness to stake you, we have no reason or interest in cleaning up your messes."

Spike, equally angry, replied, "I didn't ask you to, did I?"

"Be that as it may, these constant attacks are endangering the rest of us whenever you're with us."

Spike stood. "Why don't I just leave, then?" he said, moving to the door.

Giles blinked. Things had gotten out of hand and he hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't expected such a hostile reaction. "Spike -."

"Hey," Xander said, stopping Spike. "We've gotta' work on this looping day thing. You can't go." He turned to Giles. "Giles, we really don't have time to discuss Spike's popularity problem now. This is day three already and the way things are looking, we'll still be at this a week from now."

Giles was silent for a minute while Spike, fuming, stood restlessly in the middle of the room.

Eventually, Giles said, "All right. What do you suggest?"

Giles called everyone and they promptly assembled at the Magic Box, suspecting a dour prophecy or, at the least, a nasty demon that would have to be put down.

"So, Giles," Buffy said, upon entering. "It's not another apocalypse, is it?"

Xander rolled his eyes and Spike looked at the floor.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"It's not an apocalypse, Buff," he said, then glanced at the rest. "And, it's not Spike's chip, either. We've already had this conversation."

"What about Spike's chip?" Anya asked, emerging from the storage room. "He didn't get it out, did he?"

Buffy look disgusted. "If he did, then I'd have to stake him."

Spike glanced up, a hurt look in his eyes. "Why's that, luv?"

She stared at him as though he was being obtuse.

"Because we can't allow you to go out and start killing people again," Giles explained, impatiently. "Now, can we please get to the matter at hand?"

Spike, however, refused to let it go. "You think I can just go back to the way I was?" he said, waving a hand, sparks and ash from his cigarette sprinkling the floor.

"It's what you are, Spike," Xander said, shaking his head.

"What - you still think I'd try to kill all of you?" he asked, incredulously.

"Well, it's not like we're your friends, Spike," Xander said.

Spike stepped back, as though he'd been slapped.

Xander went on, oblivious. "I think you'd happily munch on us first - or try to - then go out and start recruiting minions again. 'Course, it might be trickier than it used to be, what with them wanting to kill."

"Which is something I still want to discuss," Giles interrupted. "We can't let this go on, Spike. I can't help but think you've done something, or are doing something, and I must insist you tell us what it is."

Spike looked from one to the other, hurt and angry. "That's just like the lot of you, isn't? You think I got this soddin' chip out of my head and the first thing you think is 'oh, Spike's been on a killin' spree!' Now you assume I've done something to brass off my own kind, as though working with you soddin' wankers wasn't already enough!"

"Buffy risks her life every night," Giles said, heatedly, "and with more demons coming to town every day it puts her life in danger."

"You think I'd do anything to -?" He stopped abruptly, looking awkwardly at Buffy, then, "Why don't you mind your own business, Rupert?"

"When your behavior endangers the lives of everyone at this table then it becomes my business, Spike."

Spike laughed. "My behavior?" He started pacing. "You really think I have time to -?" He stopped. He was about to tell them how he spent his days, which mostly involved sleeping, watching television and wandering the town at night, trying to avoid anything hostile when he wasn't actually patrolling. Of course, that was before the day-that-wouldn't-end started. They thought he was pitiful enough, so he decided against it. "I'll tell you what, Watcher, I'll take care of this little problem, and you and your little gang can take the day off," he said, bitterly. He gave the group a final look, then stormed out.

Giles stood and started pacing. "I think he's probably going to do something very stupid."

"It's Spike," Xander said, as though it was explanation enough.

Xander's protests about the uselessness of patrolling notwithstanding, Buffy determined to go anyway. She was only ten minutes into her nightly routine when she stopped and looked around.

"It's really quiet, don't you think?" she asked.

Giles and Xander stood beside her. "Perhaps I overestimated the threat." He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No," she said. "There's something. . . ."

"Something?" Giles asked, peering at her.

She looked around the cemetery. "Over there," she said, pointing.

They followed the direction she indicated and saw two demons, one lying on the ground, and the other propped against a tree in a curiously uncomfortable position.

In less than a minute they were standing over the demons. Both had nasty wounds that didn't bear further scrutiny.

"Eww," Willow said, looking away.

"No kidding," Buffy said. Despite the messiness of their remains, she bent to get a better look.

"Something unfriendly happened to them," she said, "and it's carrying a sword or an axe."

"Perhaps they were fighting amongst themselves," Giles suggested.

"Maybe, but I don't see any weapons."

Twenty minutes later they stopped again to discuss the situation. They'd already stumbled upon five more demons, just as dead as the others.

"It looks like something's gone on a rampage, Giles," Buffy said. "Is there some new Big Bad in town I should know about?"

"How 'bout an old one?" Xander asked.

"Huh?"

"It's Spike."

"How do you know that?"

"Who else?"

"Yes," Giles said, "you're probably right. He's trapped in a repeating day and he's angry and frustrated. He's likely going to take it out on the only things he can - other demons."

"Since he can't take it out on us," Willow said, softly.

Xander stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We were really mean to him this afternoon," she said. "He didn't deserve that."

"Wil, we didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"Let's not start arguing about this," Giles said. "I think it's obvious we're wasting our time out here. We may as well head back to the shop and continue researching."

They decided to browse one more cemetery on the way and found it to be as quiet as the others. A few more demons dotted the ground, along with several piles of dust.

"Wow," Willow said. "He's really determined."

"You hear something?" Xander asked, glancing around.

"What is that?" Giles asked.

"Over there!" Xander shouted, pointing.

Three dark figures were tearing through the cemetery, screaming in total panic, clearly expecting nothing less than a horrible, messy death. Buffy ran after them, followed by Xander and the rest.

Halfway there, they saw Spike, running at top speed, axe in hand. He leapt fluidly over a tombstone and kept going.

"What is he chasing?" Giles asked. "Were they demons?"

"Let's find out," Buffy said, and kept after them.

They quickly found themselves outside the cemetery and in a quiet street. Buffy nearly tripped over a figure lying in the road. She just managed to leap over it, then turned and bent to examine it. She flipped it over onto its back and gasped.

"Giles!"

They joined her and gazed at the dead demon. It was clothed in a dark brown cloak, now marred with an ugly gash through its belly.

"Hey," Xander said, "that's one of Glory's minions."

"What were they doing?" Willow asked.

Buffy stood abruptly. "We need to find out and we can't do that if Spike kills them all. Let's go."

They caught up to Spike in an alley. He was beating the last minion senseless.

"Spike!"

He didn't answer, just kept slamming the minion in the head with his fist.

Buffy ran over and threw him off the demon.

"Get a grip, Spike!" she yelled.

Spike staggered to his feet, panting and looking wild-eyed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Buffy asked, red-faced with anger.

Giles bent to examine the demon. He was unconscious and looked to remain that way for a long while.

Giles stood. Buffy and Spike were staring at each other - she, angry and shocked, and he clearly trying to gain control of himself.

"Looking for an entry in Guinness, Spike?" Xander asked. "'Cause, we could go to Willie's if you like. Lots of vamps and demons there."

"Xander. . . ." Willow said, putting a hand on his arm.

"What?" he said, shrugging out of her grasp. He looked at Spike again. "What was that little speech you made this afternoon about not going on a killing spree?"

Giles moved where he had everyone's attention, raising his arms in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner. "Everyone needs to calm down," he said. He turned to Spike, who had backed away and was standing partially in the shadow of the building, leaning against the wall. "Spike, these are obviously Glory's minions. We would have liked to question one of them to find out what they were up to."

Spike pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, extracted his last one, and lit it with trembling hands.

They waited while he took a long drag, the simple action obviously calming him. Finally, he said, "I did question 'em. They said they'd brought Glory back and were off to collect someone."

The silence in the alley was interminable.

Buffy was the first to find her voice. "Who were they after?"

"Don't know."

Buffy looked around in horror. "I have to get home! Dawn's there!"

"So's Anya!" Xander shouted.

Before they could exit the alley, a voice interrupted their panicking.

"Well, this is really convenient."

They stared, shocked and unable to speak.

Glory and several minions stood blocking the alley.

"And just the person I want," she continued, looking at Willow and smiling.

Buffy stepped forward, still shocked, but quickly becoming enraged. "You're not taking anyone, hellbitch. In fact, you're not getting out of this alley alive."

"You know, if anyone here should be mad, it's me," Glory said, petulantly. "You ruined my plans, killed my poor Ben, which sent me off to some hell dimension where they don't even have indoor plumbing!" She stepped toward Buffy, smiling. "I don't have a lot of time, so let's get to it, shall we?"

Buffy and Spike attacked as one, ignoring minions and concentrating on Glory. They moved together with graceful precision, avoiding Glory's fists and watching each other's backs.

Giles and Xander focused on the minions, keeping them from Willow as she worked up a spell.

After a minute of taking an enormous amount of abuse, Glory, frustrated and impatient, turned nasty. She'd been overconfident, not using her speed to its full advantage, but now she dodged another blow from Spike's axe and whipped around to stand behind Buffy, a red blur marking her passage.

She grabbed Buffy by the throat and squeezed.

Spike let out a howl and lunged at them.

Glory sidestepped, pulling Buffy with her, and Spike slammed into the wall. He whirled around to see Buffy choking, eyes wide and struggling against Glory.

Prepared to launch himself at them again, he pushed off the wall. He didn't get far, however, because Glory flew back and crashed into the opposite wall.

She and Buffy separated and fell to the pavement, Buffy coughing and wheezing for breath, and Glory angry and brushing at her dress.

Spike glanced at Willow. Her eyes had gone black.

Instead of attacking Glory, Spike lunged for Buffy. He pulled her away just as a bolt of electricity slammed into Glory. It propelled her out of the alley and across the street.

Willow dropped to the ground and strode toward the opening of the alley. That kind of power took it out of her, but she thought she could get off another shot.

Willow raised her arms high, then gestured at Glory, who was just getting to her feet. Lightening stabbed down from the sky and hit Glory, holding her in its brilliant, lethal embrace, her body quaking violently. She screamed, arms lashing out in an attempt to free herself. Just as the lightening died down and it looked like she might yet get free, another bolt hit her.

Electricity crackled around Willow, and blood poured from her nose as she rocked back and forth in the grip of her deadly power.

The sky rumbled and more lightening pierced the ground, missing Glory and apparently hitting randomly.

"Willow!" Giles shouted.

The rain came next, pouring down in heavy sheets, blinding everyone to more than ten feet.

In the street, Glory staggered around, barely maintaining her feet. More and more lightening struck around her and she dodged it drunkenly. She peered into the alley but couldn't see anything. It was time to leave.

In the alley, Giles tackled Willow. They rolled across the ground and came to rest against the wall. Giles raised himself off of her and grasped her head, lifting it gently, and looked in her eyes.

They were half-closed, but her normal green.

"Willow, can you hear me?" he asked.

It was impossible to hear over the thunder and the deluge and she didn't answer. He put his mouth to her ear.

"Willow!"

She moaned and grabbed his jacket. "Giles?"

"Are you all right?"

"Think so," she mumbled.

He could barely hear her and he put a finger to her throat, feeling her pulse. Too fast.

"You need to calm down, Willow," he said into her ear. "Try to breathe."

She nodded. Blood was still gushing from her nose. Giles moved off of her and reached into his pocket. His handkerchief was quickly soaked, but he held it over her nose anyway and tilted her head back.

Giles looked up and tried to locate the others. He still couldn't see. Despite Willow's apparent abandonment of her spell, it seemed its effects weren't going to dissipate so easily.

The instant the rain started, Buffy and Spike raced into the street, trying to find Glory, hoping to finish her off before she could recover. They searched frantically for several minutes.

"She's not here!" Spike yelled.

"I have to get home!" Buffy screamed. "Dawn! I have to get home!"

"Buffy, you can't see in this downpour! You'd never make it!" he said, grabbing her arm.

She pushed him roughly, knocking him to the ground, and she ran.

"Buffy!"

In the alley, Xander found Giles and Willow and was kneeling next to them.

"Is she okay?"

"I'm not sure," Giles answered. "We need to get her out of here. What about Glory?"

"Don't know. I can't see anything."

Giles considered the situation. They could stay where they were, hoping the storm would play itself out soon, or set off and possibly stagger around blindly for shelter. He looked at Willow again. She was unconscious and still bleeding. His decision made, he tossed his sodden handkerchief away and took off his jacket. Seeing him, Xander did the same and they covered Willow. It wasn't very effective, but it was better than nothing. Giles pulled her to him and lifted her into his arms.

"Follow the wall!" Giles said. "Get around front and find a door!"

"Right!"

Xander left quickly and Giles followed, more cautiously. A minute later, Xander returned and grabbed his arm, leading him forward.

Once around front, Xander kicked the door in and they got inside quickly.

It was a video store and likely didn't have anything to help them.

They were both shivering uncontrollably. Giles sat and leaned against the counter, hugging Willow to him.

"Try to find a. . . . a storage room," he stammered. His teeth were clattering. "Blankets . . . a tarp, something . . . ."

Xander did so, and returned a few minutes later with a large drape he'd torn off the window in the back room.

"Here," he said. They wrapped Willow in it, and Giles pressed her into Xander's arms.

"Try to keep her warm," he said, getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to try and find Buffy."

"Giles."

He looked back, concerned at the odd note in Xander's voice.

"It won't matter," he said. "Tomorrow -."

"Is another day, Xander. Whether it's the same one or not remains to be seen."

"Why can't you just believe me, Giles?"

Giles looked at the floor. He sighed. "I do, Xander. It's just . . . with Glory out there. . . ."

"You can't do anything about her and you know it. Besides, if they're not in the street - and I don't think they are -you'd never find them."

Giles crossed to the window and gazed out at the rain. It hadn't let up any. Xander was right. It was impossible. He looked back at Willow. All they could do was take care of themselves.

"I'll see if they have any coffee," he said, and left Xander and Willow alone.

"It'll be okay in the morning, Wil," Xander whispered, rocking her softly. "It'll be okay. . . ."


	3. Chapter 3

DAY 4

"This is a lot worse than we thought, Rupert," Spike said. He was sitting on Giles' couch, a blood-soaked bandage held to his side.

"I know it looks bad, Spike," Giles said, uncharitably, "but I'm sure it will heal by the end of the day. And the burns on your hands are your own fault, really. You shouldn't go out -."

"I'm talkin' about this day," Spike interrupted. "It's the same bloody day for the fourth time and now it's even worse because Glory's back!"

Giles gave Spike a blank look.

"Spike. . . ."

"She's back, Giles. We gotta' find her." He tried to stand. "She's runnin' around out there, probably gonna' go after Dawn again -!"

Giles pushed him back and stared at him, sadly. He was clearly delusional, probably having nightmares about the night Buffy died. He'd been in bad shape most of the time Buffy had been dead, but he seemed to recover over the last few weeks, especially since she was back. He'd been through a lot, obviously more than they realized. Maybe he'd finally snapped.

"Spike," Giles began, gently. How does one talk to a delusional vampire? Perhaps reason. "You've been dreaming, reliving that night at the tower. You've got to realize -."

"We weren't at the tower, Rupert, it was a bloody alley beside a video store," Spike interrupted, fiercely. "And I am not bloody insane!"

Giles stared at him, considering his next words carefully. "Spike, I want you to try to calm down," he said, quietly, trying not to excite him.

Spike threw his head back against the sofa. "Tried to kill the deranged bint," he said, closing his eyes.

Giles stood and went to the phone.

"Kept hittin' her in the head with a big, bloody axe, but she just wouldn't go down. . . ."

"Buffy . . . ? Yes, I know . . . 7:15 . . . yes, it's early . . . No, it's not another apocalypse." Giles sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Buffy, please . . . yes, all right." He paused. "Spike is here and. . . ." He looked at Spike, who was still mumbling to himself.

" . . .tried to get to the Niblitt . . . got lost in the soddin' rain. . . ."

"He's been injured, Buffy . . . I'm not certain. Just get here when you can."

 

  
Spike sat in the Magic Box, his chair propped against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his fingers. It was burning down, the ash fluttering to the floor unnoticed. He'd been staring at the table for twenty minutes.

Xander was sitting at the table, his head in his hands, a book in front of him, and fingers laced together through his hair. Periodically, he would let out a sigh and sit up and rub his eyes. This produced remarkably little relief and he quickly went back to his brooding.

Giles was lost in the bookshelves, pouring over book after book, stopping only to ask Xander if a particular volume had been perused the day before.

Willow sat next to Xander, trying to get through the massive tome before her.

Buffy paced in the front of the store, restless and unable to do what she did best, attack and slay. She didn't know whether to believe Spike and Xander or not, but she couldn't afford not to.

Spike's chair clattered as he got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Xander asked.

"Out."

"That's really gonna' help, Spike."

"I don't see you doin' any helpin', Harris."

Xander stood and leaned over the table. "If we come up with something I don't want to have to go find you."

"Why would you need to find me?" Spike asked, bitterly. "You've said plenty of times how you don't need my help."

"You're right, Spike, we don't," Xander said, angrily. "Why don't you go find a nest of vamps to slaughter again. You can feel useful for a day."

"Hey," Willow said, wearily, "be nice. You two can't keep fighting like this."

"She's right," Giles called from somewhere behind them. "It's not productive."

Buffy joined them at the table, annoyed and ready to give them both a good scalding. Before she could open her mouth, Spike brushed past her. They watched as he jerked his duster over his head and exited the shop.

"You want me to bring him back, Giles?" Buffy asked.

"No," he sighed. "Let him go. Xander, you could probably use a break, too. Why don't you go get some lunch?"

Xander nodded.

"I'm gonna' check on Dawn," Buffy said.

They'd stashed her at Xander's apartment, knowing Glory didn't know where he lived, but she was still worried. She didn't like leaving her alone, so she'd spent her day going from the Magic Box to the apartment.

"You could just call," Giles suggested.

"No, I need to get out of here, too."

 

  
That night they patrolled for only thirty minutes before Spike's patience evaporated.

"Why the bloody hell are we out here?" Spike asked, waving his arms around.

Buffy sighed in annoyance. "Because it's what I do, Spike. Go home if you want."

"I think we should be lookin' for Glory -."

"If we don't take care of your little fan club, they'll probably just get in our way, Spike."

"Which is why I think we should just go now."

"Just because we haven't stumbled on any of them yet doesn't mean they aren't out looking for you, Spike," Giles said.

"Okay," Xander interrupted. "I realize I'm agreeing with Spike again, but he's right. I say we give up the vamp hunt and search for Glory."

Buffy sighed. "We really have to get things back to normal before you two go all Butch and Sundance on us."

"Huh?"

"You know . . . the movie?" Buffy prompted.

"Those poncy wankers got shot to bits down in Peru. Are you sayin'-?"

"It was Spain," Anya said, rolling her eyes.

"Bolivia," Buffy said. "And, besides, that's not what I meant. I -."

"I haven't seen this movie," Xander said.

"They're outlaws," Buffy explained, patiently. "It's the original buddy movie."

"I don't see what that has to do with us gettin' shot to pieces by a bunch of soddin' Peruvians," Spike said.

"Bolivians," Buffy said, shaking her head.

"Same thing."

"I DON'T think so."

Spike and Xander stared at her, perplexed.

"Never mind," she sighed. "Let's go."

It was purely accidental that they stumbled upon one of Glory's minions. They followed him and fifteen minutes later arrived in the parking lot, staring at the building.

"The mall?" Buffy said, incredulously.

"What would a demon want at a mall?" Anya asked.

"Well, they have to buy those oh-so-fashionable cloaks somewhere," Xander said.

"It's after hours," Willow said.

Xander scoffed. "They're demons." He glanced at Spike. "Like they'd bother paying for anything."

"Hey!" Anya said. "There's another one."

The group looked. The minions entered the building through a back entrance.

"Let's go," Buffy said, and headed across the parking lot.

Inside, they quickly realized they'd lost their targets.

"Now what?"

"I can find them," Willow said, "just give me a minute to -."

"They went this way," Spike said, and started walking.

Five minutes later they found themselves in the main hall near the front entrance.

The minions scurried around, making preparations for something, while a young woman stood, off to their far right, bound to a pillar. They could just see her arm and the edge of her dress.

"I count twelve," Xander said. "Not very good odds."

Giles frowned. "I'm not certain what they're trying to achieve. Willow?"

Willow sidled up next to Giles and peered at the scene. "They must be trying to bring Glory back, and the girl is her host body." She shook her head. "I can't make out all the symbols, but it looks like a binding spell of some sort."

They stared at the scene for another minute. "I don't see the point. Maybe they're not performing the ritual correctly."

"We know they succeed eventually," Willow said.

"Well, maybe we could sit here and discuss it some more," Spike said, "or, we could go in there and kick their heads around until they just tell us."

"Okay, I hate to agree with the Evil Dead, here," Xander said, "but he does have a point. We need to stop them, whatever they're doing."

"Agreed," Giles said. They all looked at Buffy.

"Willow, we're gonna' need you on this," she said. "There are just too many. You feel up to it?"

She nodded. "How about a floating spell?"

Spike scoffed. "Think you could come up with somethin' a little more tame, Red?"

"A floating spell is easy and very disorienting. They won't be able to fight like that and, besides, it takes longer to work up an exploding head spell or a blinding potion . . . they'd have to drink that, of course. . . ."

"Excuse me, did you say an exploding HEAD spell?" Xander asked, appalled.

She smiled. "Haven't tried that one yet. Can't really test it out, you know."

"Um," Anya interjected, "if there's going to be a big fight, can you try and keep it away from the bridal shop? I still need to pick out my dress."

"I'll see what I can do," Buffy said.

"Hey!" Xander said, pointing at the minions. "It's that creepy Doc guy from the tower."

"I thought he was dead."

"That bugger's mine," Spike growled.

"Look, Spike," Buffy started, but stopped abruptly when she looked at him. He was clearly beyond the reasoning stage and well into murderous intent.

Spike leapt forward, heading straight for Doc. Everyone but Willow followed, and the battle was quickly engaged.

Buffy plowed through several minions, knocking them around like bowling pins, trying to reach the girl.

Spike, across the room, had surprised Doc and managed to wrestle him to the ground. Doc thrashed around, trying to loosen Spike's grip, but Spike wasn't having any of it.

Xander and Anya were holding their own against six of the minions, while the others went after Buffy. Six to two, however, was not terribly sporting, and Xander soon found himself on his back under a mound of scabby demons.

"Xander!" Anya screamed. She started beating on them.

Spike heard the screaming and looked around. Buffy seemed to be doing okay. He then noticed Anya, then Xander's leg - he was stuck under a pile of minions.

Spike glanced down at Doc. He couldn't help them and keep a hold of the wanker at the same time. He wanted - needed - to kill the demon, but he wasn't sure what would kill the wretched bugger. Maybe twisting his head off would do it. . . .

Anya screamed again and Spike jerked his head around in time to see her throw herself on top of the minions.

Spike groaned and threw Doc away from him. He bashed into a nearby wall and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Spike ran across the room, latched onto Anya, and tossed her aside. "Mind if I cut in, luv?"

Out of breath, she could only nod.

Spike leaned in and started pulling minions off the pile, tossing them across the room.

From his position on the floor, Xander noticed the flying minions, but in his dazed state he couldn't figure out why they were suddenly able to fly. He then caught sight of Spike and groaned. Saved by Spike. Not a good day.

Spike grabbed the last minion, but as he braced himself to throw, he and the minion started floating.

"What the -?"

Xander and Anya looked around. All the minions were floating.

"Hey!" Spike yelled.

Xander leapt up and grabbed his coat. He and Anya quickly pulled him down and held onto him.

Willow ran over to them. "Sorry, Spike. I could either float everyone in the room, which wouldn't be too good, or I could limit it to demons." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I could be more specific, but I'd need to know just what kind of demons these guys are, and . . . it would also take more time."

"It's okay, Red. Just how long does this spell last?"

"About an hour, but if you get outside it's range, you should be okay." She gestured towards where they'd come in. "Over there should be fine."

Xander and Anya guided Spike across the room. He stayed there, watching, while the rest went about collecting minions like stray balloons.

Buffy turned around to untie the girl and stopped. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Before she could speak, the girl's features altered and Buffy found herself facing Glory.

"Well, isn't this a nice little reunion?" she grinned.

Buffy was beside herself with rage. "You . . . you. . . ."

Glory flexed her arms and the ropes fell away. She advanced on Buffy, then stopped and surveyed the area with a pleased smile.

"Say, am I in a mall?"

 

  
DAY 5

At nine a.m. the group, minus Spike, was assembled at the Magic Box. Xander spent ten minutes recounting their situation and another ten convincing them that he was not, in fact, insane.

Giles passed coffee to everyone. "Perhaps we should discuss what happened last night?" he suggested, willing to consider all the options if only to mollify Xander. He seemed unnaturally edgy.

Xander groaned and rolled his eyes. "Last night went way beyond bad."

"How so?"

"We didn't get to the mall in time to stop Glory. Her minions brought her back in full hellgod mode, and she was pissed."

"I take it we didn't win, then?" Giles asked.

"It was more of draw."

Giles nodded. "It may be beneficial if you told us what happened so that we might forebear repeating ourselves tonight," Giles suggested.

"Okay, first. . . ." He turned to Willow. "No more ball of sunshine spells, okay? It looks good on paper, but it's just not practical."

"But, I think it's a really good idea -."

"Tell that to Spike. You set his head on fire last night and he spent the rest of the night with his head in a bucket of water."

"Oh."

He turned to Buffy. "And, Buff, I know you have a kind of personal vendetta thing going with Glory, but don't go chasing her into Reptile World. Bad things happen in there, which we'll never speak of again. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, uncertainly.

Giles cleared his throat. "You'd think that after four days we'd be able to stop her returning."

"Well, we've only actually known about her for two days," Xander said. "We spent the first two days trying to figure out the spell, but now we know it was Glory's minions."

"Do we?" Giles asked.

"Okay, we're assuming, but right now we gotta' take what we can get."

"Okay," Buffy said, "not ready to accept this whole looping day thing yet - but why don't we just try and figure out when they cast the spell and stop them from doing it? Won't that knock this repeating day spell in the head?"

"I would think so," Giles said.

"I don't know," Willow said. "We may need to actually break it. I'll get to work on that."

"And, you say there's a group of vampires after Spike?" Giles asked.

"Yeah, they're causing a lot of problems."

"Can we simply avoid them?" Giles asked. "Where do they attack every night?"

"Everywhere," Xander answered. "It doesn't matter where we are. I think they must be out looking for Spike, so it won't matter what we do. They'll spend the night searching until they get him."

"That's going to be a problem," Giles murmured.

"Unless we just let 'em have him."

"Xander!" Willow said.

Giles considered for a few minutes, then, "Perhaps we should find where they're hiding and go after them during the day."

Xander sighed. "I don't know, Giles. I'm starting to think it doesn't matter what we do. We're never gonna' get out of this day."

"Let's not get fatalistic about it. We'll figure this out, and we will stop Glory."

Xander gave him a pessimistic look, but didn't say anything.

 

  
"Where's my key?" Glory asked, looking eagerly past her minions.

"Oh . . . Resplendent one, we did not know what you would desire," the minion said, spreading his arms.

"You didn't think I'd want my key?" she spat at them.

"The key cannot be used to return you to your home, oh Magnificent Glorificus, so we assumed. . . ." The minion faltered and took a step back.

"We wished only to rescue you from the hell dimension, Great One," another minion added.

"To do what?" she whispered, stepping toward them.

"Uh . . . we assumed you would prefer to live out your life in this world," the minion said, gesturing extravagantly. "There are many pleasant things here . . . ."

"Entertainment. . . ."

"Restaurants. . . ."

"Shopping!"

They all shouted excitedly and gestured widely, indicating the mall.

Glory advanced on him. "I . . . want . . . my . . . key!" she screamed, jabbing him in the chest with each word.

Doc approached and the minions parted, eager to let him handle their god.

"Glorious one," he said, smiling, "we can have the key here within minutes. Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain to your humble servants your magnificent plans?"

Glory took a deep breath and got control of herself. "We're going to do it the hard way this time," she explained. "If I can't open the portals all at once, I'll just have to do them one at a time." She brushed a strand of hair aside.

"Ah," Doc said. "That will require approximately three hundred years to open each portal, which dictates you acquire a body with a much longer lifespan."

She glared at him. "So? Find me a spell or something," she said, waving at him.

"The only spells that grant life extensions or eternal life are usually quite impractical," Doc explained, "demanding various organs or body parts that most people would rather keep. Frequently, psychological damage is sustained as well." He smiled. "I would not suggest, Glorious One, that we risk your startling intellect more than is necessary."

The minions nodded anxiously.

"Why can't I just change bodies?"

"Unfortunately, your godly essence cannot maintain its cohesiveness by transferring from body to body. You must remain in the body you have."

"So, think of something!"

Doc considered for a moment, then, "We must somehow grant immortality to the body you inhabit."

"You just said -."

"Vampires, Oh Glorious One, are immortal, and anyone can be turned."

"You want me to become a vampire?" she asked, disgusted.

"It is the only way. You would likely have none of the weaknesses of your host body, but we could easily sustain her life for many years."

Glory thought about it, glowering the entire time.

"We will also have to do the same for the key, as it is in human form now."

"All right," she said, finally. "Do what you have to."

 

  
"I still don't understand why they're at the mall," Anya said, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the imposing building.

"Glory's pretty vain," Buffy said. "They probably thought she'd want to do some shopping right away."

"Uh-oh," Xander said.

They turned. A group of vampires and demons were converging on them.

"Where'd they come from?" Buffy asked, annoyed.

"Great," Xander said. "Do you have a beacon in your head, too, Spike?"

"I knew we should've patrolled," Buffy said.

Spike tossed his spent cigarette away. "I'll take care of 'em, luv."

"Alone? Are you Clint Eastwood, now?"

"What is this fixation you have with movies lately?" Spike asked. "You know, you're the one who got that whole James Bond argument goin' the other night."

"Like I'd argue about something so stupid," she said.

"Oh, right. 'Cause you'd never talk about anything so banal as pop culture."

"Banal?"

Spike mimicked Buffy. "Oh, James, you're so sexy in your three piece suit and perfect bleedin' hair. Here, let me mix you a martini with my tongue."

"I did not say that!"

"Like you'd remember," Spike scoffed. "He's a soddin' pretty boy."

"Oh, look who's talking," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "The poster boy for Calvin Klein."

"Hey, guys . . . vampires at six o'clock," Xander said, gesturing.

"Are you sure it's not high noon?" Spike smirked, glancing at Buffy.

"Shut UP, Spike!" Buffy stomped away, heading for the vampires.

He followed her, digging a stake from his pocket. "Or maybe they're off the port bow, Horatio!"

"Spike! If one more word comes out of your mouth. . . !"


	4. Chapter 4

Day 6

Spike stood leaning against a wall in the Magic Box while Xander paced. Anya was engaged with a customer across the room, trying to ignore them.

"This is a nightmare," Xander muttered.

"How many times you gonna' say that?" Spike asked, annoyed.

Xander stopped in front of Spike. "Why couldn't I be stuck with Anya?" He threw his arms in the air. "Or Wil or Buffy? But, no." He gestured at Spike. "I'm stranded in the Twilight Zone with the Evil Dead."

"Yeah, well, you think I like being stuck here with you?" Spike countered, flicking his cigarette away. "I'd rather be swimmin' around in a vat of holy water than standin' here listen to you whine all day."

"Really? 'Cause I bet I could arrange that. . . ."

 

  
In the back of the shop, Willow frowned and looked around the bookshelf. "Giles, do you hear that?"

Giles stepped around the end of the shelf and listened.

"I think they're fighting again," she said.

Giles groaned. "I'll go stop them."

 

  
". . .with . . .with debilitating, cancerous pustules dripping . . . dripping . . . blood and . . . and pus!" Spike screamed, gesturing wildly. "All over my face and arms -!"

"Oh yeah?" Xander exclaimed. "I'd rather be staked out in the desert with ANTS crawling up my nose than be stuck here with you for another MINUTE!"

"Hey!" Anya yelled. "I'm with a customer here!" She gave the woman a sheepish smile and pulled her around the corner and into the next aisle. "They don't work here," she said. "In fact, I don't even know them."

"You want somethin' up your nose, mate?" Spike shouted."How 'bout a fist!"

"Go ahead, Spike! I like seein' you rollin' around on the floor, moaning and holding your head."

"You think this chip could stop me if I wanted to rip your throat out!"

 

  
Buffy stormed through the door of the training room and nearly ran into Giles.

"Giles!" she exclaimed, waving her hand toward the front of the store. "They can't keep this up. I can't concentrate."

"I know," he acknowledged. "It's also bad for business."

She rolled her eyes. "So glad you have your priorities right, Giles."

A loud crash interrupted them and they rushed to the front of the store.

One of Giles' large display cabinets was shattered and mangled beyond redemption, and Xander and Spike were rolling around on the floor, heedless of the broken glass and magic paraphernalia that crunched and splintered under their weight.

They struggled to their knees. Xander had Spike in a headlock, squeezing viciously, while Spike punched him repeatedly in the stomach. They were both bellowing in pain but neither was ready to give in. Anya was beating them both with a broom.

Buffy and Giles dived on the two and pulled them apart.

No one said anything for nearly a minute and, behind them, Anya's customer quietly slipped out the door.

Giles took a deep breath and fixed Spike and Xander with an irate gaze. "This has got to stop. You're not helping matters by succumbing to anger and frustration every hour -."

"And you're running off customers!" Anya said.

"Yes, that too. I think the two of you should just stay away from each other for the remainder of the day."

Spike and Xander, breathing heavy and glaring at one another, grudgingly nodded.

"Fine. Now, let's get this mess cleaned up -."

"Hey," Xander said, "I feel funny. . . ."

"Perhaps you should sit down," Giles said, reaching for his arm.

Spike put a hand against the wall to steady himself.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Got a weird, itchy feelin' in my head."

"Huh?"

Giles quickly glanced at the floor, realizing what they were standing in.

"Oh, dear. . . ."

 

  
An hour later the bell on the front door sounded and Anya glanced anxiously around.

It was Dawn. She trudged over and stared at Spike. He was laid out on the table, his coat under his head and an ice pack on his forehead.

"What happened to you?"

Spike gave her a bleary-eyed stare but didn't say anything.

"Spike?" she said, frowning, worried.

Spike grunted in irritation and said, "Gakrol erkgh plyknop sertip." He shook his head and covered his eyes with the ice pack.

Dawn, wide-eyed, said, "Huh?"

"Dawn!" Buffy shouted. "Why aren't you at Xander's?"

"Because!" she cried, "everything is totally creepy!" She threw her arms in the air. "I've watched everything on TV -!"

"You can't go wandering around town by yourself," Buffy insisted.

"Why not? Glory doesn't come back until tonight, right?"

"Her minions are around, somewhere, Dawn," Giles explained, "and we don't know if they know the day is looping. From what Xander told us, Glory didn't even seem to know at first."

"I'm taking you back to Xander's," Buffy interrupted, grabbing Dawn's arm.

Dawn jerked her arm away. "No, Buffy!" She stomped away. "I can't take it anymore! It's like I've stepped into bizarro world!" She slumped into a chair. "I've been watching TV all day and it's all the same shows I saw yesterday - or it seems like it." She sighed in frustration. "It's like deja vu! All day long!"

"What?" Giles asked. He, Buffy, and Willow quickly surrounded her.

"You mean you remember?" Giles asked. "You know the day is repeating itself?"

She looked around frantically. "I'm not sure, I just . . . I just . . . I don't know . . . kind of . . . feel that it happened."

"This is really most odd," Giles said, sitting.

Buffy looked worried. "What does this mean, Giles? How can Dawn remember when the rest of us don't?"

Willow answered. "But, she doesn't really remember. It's like," she looked at Dawn, "like a dream, maybe?"

"Yes!" Dawn said. "It's like I dreamed my entire day and now I'm living my dream. Can that happen, Giles?"

"Well, we do live on a hellmouth and we've seen stranger things, but I don't think that's what happened, especially since Spike and Xander actually remember the day."

Dawn glanced at Spike again. "Are you okay?"

"He can't talk to you right now," Giles explained. "He and Xander had a little accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"They were fighting and they fell on a Melikon dialect orb."

"A what?"

Giles gave her an exasperated look. "It's meant to translate demon languages. Of course, one has to use the proper spell -."

Anya interrupted, impatiently. "Blood, a spell, a demon - that's how it works. Only there was no spell and now they both sound like neanderthals."

"Can they talk to each other?"

"No."

Dawn laughed.

"Which is for the best, really," Giles said.

"Are you gonna' fix them?"

"No. We don't have time. We have to find the spell that is making this day repeat itself or find one to break it."

"Giles, if Dawn remembers it like a dream, maybe we can do a spell that will help the rest of us to remember," Willow suggested. "If the day loops again, we'll waste a lot of time while Spike and Xander try to convince us."

"That's a good idea," Giles said. "Why don't you work on that and the rest of us will concentrate on finding a spell to break the loop."

 

  
After several hours of unprofitable research, Buffy gave up and decided to patrol. After a ten minute argument wherein much pantomiming went on, Spike and Xander were allowed to go.

"If there are as many vampires out there as they say, Buffy," Willow said, "maybe we should all go."

"Okay," Buffy said, annoyed, "but Giles should really keep researching."

"I will."

Buffy's gaze traveled over her crew. Spike and Xander weren't talking. In fact, they were on opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other. She shook her head, frustrated. "Let's go."

They made it through the second cemetery without an untoward amount of vampires or demons. Buffy was considering that they may well have overreacted, when a group of vampires, led by a gray, horn-faced demon accosted them.

Xander threw his arms in the air in exaggerated annoyance. "Treptrik rigmik urt bigipnyk!" he shouted, waving at the demon.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Spike," the demon said, ignoring Xander, "you stepped over the line this time."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "GIPK bagip?"

"Huh?" The demon looked at his vampire accomplices. "What'd he say?"

"I think he said somethin' about a goat."

Spike rolled his eyes and leapt into the middle of them, snarling and cursing.

Buffy and Spike were running head to head in the staking department, each having dusted six. Spike, however, quickly took the brunt of the fight as the demon snuck up behind him and clubbed him in the back of the head.

Spike swayed dizzily but maintained his feet. He could see Buffy dispatching her last vampire and rushing over to him.

He staggered around, holding his head, and faced the gray-skinned demon.

They launched themselves at each other and went down, rolling around in the street, punching and kicking. Spike rolled on top of the demon and punched him repeatedly in the face.

"Spike?" Buffy said, grabbing his arm.

He stopped and glanced wearily at her.

Buffy pulled him off the demon, who was unconscious, and Spike collapsed on the pavement.

"You okay?" Buffy asked, leaning over him.

He nodded, dazed. "Gurk."

Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled him to his feet. Willow, Xander and Anya joined them.

"Well," Buffy said, "not too bad." She wiped her hands on her pants then looked at Spike. "Maybe we overestimated your annoyance factor."

Spike glared at her, but didn't attempt to talk.

Deciding to call it a night, they headed out of the cemetery. Once on the street, however, it became apparent that Spike had more enemies than they'd realized.

"Wait, Buffy," Willow said. "Let me try first." She gestured with both hands at the advancing vampires.

"Monsters of the night,

who skulk and prowl and shun the light,

hearken now unto my voice,

abandon all thy deed of choice,

be ye now of like accord,

and one among you be your lord,

let my thought be your woe,

turn and see your gravest foe!"

Straightaway, the vamps turned on each other and attacked. Buffy and gang stood around watching.

"Hey, that was cool, Wil," Buffy said, joining her. "How long will that last?"

"They'll kill each other until only one is left standing," she said, a satisfied smile on her face. "The best, presumably." She looked at Buffy. "Easy stakeage."

"This could put me out of a job," Buffy said, impressed.

"What kind of a spell is this?" Anya asked, watching in fascination as the vampires slaughtered one another.

"It's kind of an ambiguous spell," she explained.

"Ambiguous?" Buffy said. "Don't like the sound of that, Wil."

"It's okay. That just means it does the basic spell - in this case, it clouds a person's or demon's mind - then the caster -" she gestured dramatically at herself. "moi - specifies the rest of the spell."

"So, you get to make up your own spell?" Anya asked. "That is cool."

"It's not that easy. I don't rhyme that well. Anyway, I've really been itching to try it." She looked at Xander. "I worked on this one especially for you, Xand."

"Abgip?" he said.

She smiled and looked back at the fight. "It's kind of my salute to gladiator movies. I thought you'd like it."

Xander grinned.

"Should we just leave them?" Anya asked, waving at the vamps. They were howling and snarling like wild animals and beating each other senseless. The fight mushroomed to cover the entire street and the far sidewalk.

Buffy shrugged. "Might as well."

Anya studied the vampire melee for half a second, then, "I think Big Ugly with the bowling jacket is going to win," she said.

Buffy frowned. "But, he's got no style. He's just a big brute, bowling everything else down."

"Exactly why I think he's going to win," she said. She glanced at Buffy. "Twenty bucks?"

Buffy shook her head, then appeared to reconsider. "Five," she said.

Anya rolled her eyes. "Okay."

Buffy and company watched the brawl for a few minutes. Xander and Anya were engrossed in the fight, while Willow and Buffy looked on with detached interest, Willow feeling a bit squeamish. Spike, however, looked bored.

Xander jabbed Buffy in the arm, roughly.

"Hey -!" She stopped when she noticed what he was pointing at.

Another group of vampires was advancing on them, apparently having been out looking for Spike as well.

"This is unbelievable!" Buffy said, throwing her arms in the air. She turned on Spike. "WHAT did you do, Spike?"

He gave her a resigned look, and moved to intercept the vamps.

"Try to get them in the zone," Willow whispered.

"I think we can handle them okay, Wil," Buffy said. "Me slayer, remember?"

"Right. Sorry."

There were only six this time and Buffy and Spike laid into them quickly, dusting half their number in less than a minute.

More vampires and a few demons showed up then, making the odds less appealing.

"Spike, I am so gonna' stomp your head in when this is over!" Buffy shouted.

A few patrons from the bar down the street stumbled outside, interested in the fracas, and clearly too inebriated to be bothered by the sight of men turning to dust. They shouted and waved their beer mugs, picking their favorite players.

"Spike, no!" Willow shouted, but she was too late. He'd been tackled from behind and they sailed into Willow's spell zone.

"Get out! Get out!" she screamed.

Buffy staked her last vampire and turned at the sound of Willow screaming. She saw Spike. He'd fallen heavily and the demon that assaulted him got to his feet first. The demon didn't have a chance to take the advantage, however, because the spell overtook him and he screamed, holding his head. Quickly forgetting Spike, he lunged at a vampire next to him and tried to bear hug him to death.

Spike sprang up, his game face emerging as his demon took over, and howled in mindless rage. He whirled on the two nearest vamps, snapped both their necks and threw them aside. He then leapt thirty feet and landed on a parked car. Spike used it as a springboard and launched himself into the middle of a nasty skirmish of four vampires.

Buffy watched Spike in fascination. He'd completely lost control.

Anya and Xander joined her and Willow.

"What should we do?" Anya asked.

Buffy shook her head, annoyed. "Get him out of there, I guess," she said, moving to enter the zone.

Willow caught her arm. "He'll probably attack you, too, Buffy."

"Are you forgetting his chip, Wil?"

"I doubt it would stop him."

A loud cheer erupted from the spectators, who had moved closer, and the group returned their attention to the melee.

Spike was throwing vampires around with an ease that almost frightened Buffy. She'd never seen him lose himself so thoroughly. This was his demon - wholly and completely.

The other vampires, seeing their numbers whittled down, managed to conclude that Spike was their greatest threat. They turned on him, growling and roaring.

"That's it," Buffy said. "He needs help."

"That spell won't affect us, will it?" Anya asked, her and Xander moving to follow Buffy.

Buffy stopped when Willow didn't answer.

"Wil?"

"Um, well . . . not real sure." She looked helplessly at them. "It seemed kind of foolproof when I came up with it, but now. . . ."

"Can you turn it off?" Buffy asked.

"No. Didn't think I'd need to. Again, with the foolproof," she explained, sheepishly.

Anya shrugged. "I don't think he needs help."

Buffy turned back to the fight. Spike was punching, kicking and snapping arms and legs with a savage intent that left Buffy feeling squeamish.

"Eeww," Willow said. "Did you see -?" she asked, glancing at Buffy. "Yeah, you did."

Xander sat on the hood of a parked car, watching in astonishment. Anya joined him, commenting on the odds against Spike.

"Leptop gik nopthrig vudmakim. Serg ipto lakto mik tib," he said, waving at the battle.

"I don't think so," she replied. "He's a master vampire, you know. Those others are -."

Xander grabbed her arm. "Tipgip supto nil ti rimco?"

"Of course I understand you," she answered. "Ex-demon here. Been around for over a thousand years."

Xander frowned. "Opnic du sip gopnik plog turool ig nig tupnoric!"

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to talk to you. You were in a bad mood all day."

Xander shook his head, angry.

Buffy paced outside the perimeter of Willow's spell. Should she help him? Did he deserve it? No. This was all his fault. If he hadn't pissed off the entire demon community, he wouldn't be in this mess. None of them would be. She glanced at the fight again. Spike had three vampires clinging to him, while a fourth pounded him in the face.

That was it. Buffy marched toward them.

"Buffy?"

"I'm gonna' risk it, Wil," she said, not stopping. "Besides, you were pretty specific with that spell, weren't you? What could happen?"

Xander jumped off the car. "Kigmig sodo llamtog ip lig davrigig dolwo. Kadoe duli ldo isl! Ellif sidi edl uewl filnzel sillldelf urg magurg!" he shouted, gesturing wildly.

"He's right," Anya said. "How many spells have backfired on us to date?"

"Okay, more than I care to remember," Buffy admitted. "But, I'm helping him anyway. The rest of you stay here."

Spike kicked the vampire that was punching him in the face, sending it flipping around, its jaw breaking with the impact. He then growled and lurched away from the vamp holding his left arm. A sickening snapping accompanied this as his arm fractured under the stress.

"Oh, ow!" Anya yelled. "That is gonna' slow him down."

It didn't seem to bother Spike, however, as he swung his injured arm around and grabbed the vamp holding his right arm, wrapping it around his neck. He twisted, brutally, and the vamp collapsed. Spike then elbowed the third vampire and jerked him over his shoulder, smashing him into the pavement and crushing his boot on his chest. The sound of cracking ribs reached across the street, causing blanched faces all around.

"This is really gonna' make me lose my lunch," Willow said.

As soon as Buffy reached the edge of the zone, she launched herself at the closest vampires and found herself propelled backward. She landed on her butt, startled. She turned a surprised look on Willow.

"Uh, well. . . ." Willow began, "I guess, uh . . . barrier of some kind?"

Buffy jumped up and punched at the invisible wall.

"Ow!" she yelled.

She stepped back, helplessly, and watched the remainder of the fight.

"Anyone counting them?" Willow asked.

"Nine," Anya said. "I'm very impressed. I wish I had some popcorn." She looked at Willow. "Can we do this again sometime?"

"I doubt we could get Spike to participate," she replied. She was feeling guilty as she watched the fight. Spike was down to five vampires and one large, grotesque knife-wielding demon. Spike's left arm was hanging at his side and he'd abandoned its use some time ago. The vampires circled him, two of them dragging broken legs. They, like Spike, seemed unwilling to let this quench their bloodlust. The other three vampires had various broken bones and unsightly cuts.

Spike, gently rocking on the balls of his feet, waited for them to make the first move. Finally, they could stand the suspense no longer and the two least injured launched themselves at Spike.

Spike sidestepped and grasped one as he sailed by. He kneed him ruthlessly in the stomach and tossed him aside. He then leapt onto a parked car, reaching the roof in one smooth leap. He stood atop it, king of his arena, clearly ready to mangle and butcher all challengers.

Buffy paced back and forth along the edge of the zone, growing more furious by the minute. Willow noticed.

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I really didn't think this would happen," she said.

"Oh, I knew it would," Anya said.

"What?"

Anya shrugged. "Saw it coming. The minute Willow cast her spell and we were all standing around being impressed I thought 'one of us is gonna' end up in there, I just hope it's not me or Xander.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Willow asked, offended.

"Well, in the almost three years I've known all of you, you've managed to lay down an impressive track record of well-intentioned spells that go horribly wrong."

"Story of our lives," Buffy said, with a sigh. "If something can go wrong, it will." She glanced back at Willow and smiled. "It's not your fault, Wil." She looked back at the fight in time to see Spike dust two more vampires and incapacitate a third by slamming it headfirst into the roof of the car and right on through, ruining the interior, no doubt. "It's Spike's fault," she said, firmly. "And, I don't feel sorry for him a bit."

The demon dived at Spike and crashed into him hard. The impact carried them over the top of the car and onto the pavement behind. Buffy couldn't see and she started around the perimeter.

Xander and Anya stood on their car and tried to get a better view.

Grunting, growling and much shattering glass accompanied Spike's disappearance as he and the demon continued to fight.

Abruptly, the demon flew upward and landed on his back on the roof of the car, his body sagging through the hole. He didn't get up.

"Wow," Anya said. She looked at Xander. He was equally impressed, but still not willing to give Spike any accolades.

The demon was the last. Spike had won, but had yet to reappear.

Buffy and Willow glanced worriedly at each other. Buffy reached a hand to the invisible wall and found it still there.

"I think it'll come down when Spike leaves the zone," Willow offered. "I hope."

Across the street, a crippled arm flailed weakly, then dropped onto the hood of the car. A few seconds later, Spike, staggering and weaving drunkenly, surfaced. He didn't get further than the front of the vehicle before he swayed sideways and collapsed over the hood. He slid slowly over the front, blood smearing the blue paint, and dropped to the ground.

"He's not coming out of there, Wil," Buffy said. She rushed around to the other side and managed to get within a foot of Spike before the barrier stopped her.

"Spike!"

He didn't answer. His game face had slipped away and he was unconscious. Buffy shook her head. He looked worse than she'd ever seen him. Both his eyes were swollen shut and the right side of his face was covered in blood. His mouth appeared to be swelling shut as well.

"Spike! You've got to get up!" Buffy yelled, kicking at the barrier.

She gazed helplessly across the street where the others waited. She realized that Willow was mouthing a new spell. "Oh, no. . . ."

The demon splayed on the roof of the car abruptly sat up, causing Buffy, Xander and Anya to let out a startled cry and jump back. It didn't say anything, just worked its way out of the mangled remains of the roof and dropped to the ground. It lurched around to the front of the vehicle.

Buffy watched in fascinated horror as it bent down and picked Spike up. It then turned and lumbered toward her. She instinctively stepped back.

The demon easily penetrated the barrier and dropped Spike on the sidewalk. Buffy stepped back into a fighting stance. It was unnecessary, however, because the demon, its job accomplished, dropped bonelessly to the pavement beside Spike.

Buffy leaned over Spike, keeping a wary eye on the demon, lest it inexplicably return to life - they did live on a hellmouth - and try to make an hors d'oeuvre out of her.

She gently patted Spike on the less bruised left side of his face, which elicited no response.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

She put a hand on his chest and quickly pulled it away. She stared at the blood, then at his shirt. He had several puncture wounds, all bleeding profusely.

"Okay," she said, "looks like we'll be carrying you."

The others joined her and they managed to get Spike off the sidewalk. They quickly determined it would be easier to carry him if he was upright and they repositioned him, his arms hanging over Buffy's and Xander's shoulders.

"Hey," Anya said, jabbing at the air, "this barrier's still here."

"What?" Willow said, moving to stand beside Anya. She poked at the invisible wall. "That's not good," she said.

"Deal with it later, Wil," Buffy said.

"But, cars will be crashing into it in the morning, Buffy. I can't leave it."

Xander rolled his eyes and let out a string of gibberish.

"He says it won't matter when the day loops," Anya interpreted.

Willow looked unconvinced, but decided there was nothing she could do about it anyway without a little research.

They moved off, ignoring the spectators who watched them in stunned silence, and headed for Buffy's house.

"That was my favorite new spell. . . ." Willow mumbled, rubbing her forehead. She felt a headache coming on.

 

  
DAY 7

Dawn banged on the door to Spike's crypt. When he didn't answer, she started yelling for him. Eventually she gave up and pushed the door open.

"Spike?" she asked, cautiously.

She moved further into the gloomy crypt, noticing that Spike hadn't bothered to light any candles. She wondered if he was still sleeping. Well, she'd just keep hollering until he got up.

"Spiiieeek --!"She tripped over his armchair and landed in an untidy heap on the cold floor. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and gazed around the room. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she realized the place was a mess. All the furniture was overturned and the floor. . . . She lifted a hand and peered at her palm. It was wet and sticky. . . .

"Eewww . . . !" she shrieked, then jumped up. "Spike!" she screamed, shaking her hands in revulsion.

She hastily wiped her hands on her pants and looked around for a candle. She found a nice, hefty pillar of wax, lit it, and headed for the lower level.

She found him asleep on the bed. She cautiously approached and sat beside him. He was lying on his back, left hand pressed to his side, which had obviously bled liberally.

"Spike?" she asked, touching him on the shoulder.

He groaned and opened his eyes.

"You okay?" she asked.

He looked around, anxiously, then dropped his head back onto the pillow in frustration.

"Spike, I'm gonna' go get Buffy, okay?"

"No."

"But, Spike, you're really hurt." She gently touched his hand.

"It's not that bad."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Really, 'cause your floor is gonna' need a good cleaning," she said, holding up her hands so he could see the blood.

Spike sighed. "It doesn't matter, luv." He closed his eyes. "None of it matters."

"Have you . . . you know, eaten today, Spike?"

"No. Don't have any blood here."

Dawn jumped up. "I'll go get you some."

Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. "No. Don't want you runnin' around out there by your lonesome."

"Why not? It's daylight. Nothins' gonna' attack me. Glory -."

"It's just not safe. Give me a minute, okay, and I'll walk you home."

She didn't want to argue with him, so they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and Spike nearly drifted off to sleep.

"What if we never get out of here?" Dawn asked, quietly.

Spike opened his eyes and looked at her.

"I could spend the rest of my life in Sunnydale, never finishing 11th grade," she continued. "That's like the end-all of curses, isn't it? Trapped in high school for the rest of your life."

Spike reached out to pat her hand, but thought better of it. The blood would likely negate the comfort factor he was going for.

"We'll set it right, luv. Giles and Red will work out whatever mojo them demons did and fix it."

"You don't know that. What if it's irreversible?"

"It's not," he said, firmly.

She sat back and looked at the floor. "Can I stay here with you?" she asked. "Xander said he didn't care if Sunnydale got sucked into hell and he went home to lie down."

"Know how he feels," Spike mumbled.

"So, can I?"

Spike sighed. "Do what you want, pet."

She smiled and crawled over him and propped herself up beside him on the other side of the bed.

"Wanna' play 20 questions?"


	5. Chapter 5

DAY 8

"All right," Giles began, setting his coffee on the table."Clearly something bizarre is happening and we need to get to the bottom of it." He sat across from Xander. "Perhaps you'd better recount the last few days to us."

Xander groaned and let his head drop to the table.

"Are you all right?" Giles asked.

"Yes - no . . . . All right, look . . . ." He waved a hand around. "This isn't really. . . ." He stood, abruptly, and started pacing.

"Try to calm down, Xander," Giles said.

"Okay," he said. "Well, no, actually . . . not okay. . . ."

"Just start at the beginning," Willow said, smiling. "And remember, nouns are our friends."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

  
They'd decided not to bother patrolling and split their time between Giles' apartment and the Magic Box.

Spike, Willow, Buffy and Dawn were at the shop, pouring over spell books.

Spike slammed his book shut.

"Spike?" Willow said, looking up.

"I read this one," he stated, simply.

"The whole thing?" Buffy asked, eyeing the suspiciously large volume.

"I skipped the chapters on turning people into toads and sausage links, okay?" he said and stood.

Buffy sighed and pushed her book away. They'd been at this all day and hadn't found anything useful. Willow wasn't even helping anymore. She spent all her efforts into working on a spell to make them remember. Dawn had eventually fallen asleep, her arms and head resting on the table.

"Maybe I should patrol," Buffy said, standing.

"No!" Spike said.

Dawn jolted upright, bleary-eyed, and glanced around.

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Okay, I know you've been having a rough time, Spike, but -."

"A rough time -." He broke off, laughing strangely.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a concerned look.

"Why don't you sit down and have some tea or something," Buffy said.

"Oh!" Willow said, "this might work."

"The memory thing?"

"No, to break the loop. Just kinda' stumbled over it." She read through the spell again. "It really takes a lot of juice, but we should be able to manage it. I need to look up some things, though. . . ."

"Better tell me all about it, Red, in case something happens before you can do it," Spike said, leaning over her shoulder.

"Like them?" Willow said, apprehensively.

Buffy, Spike and Dawn turned to follow her gaze. A group of vampires had assembled at the front of the shop, apparently only seconds away from entering.

Spike stalked to the weapons in a nearby glass case and smashed his hand through it. He extracted a sword and headed for the front door.

 

  
Giles, Xander, and Anya arrived fifteen minutes later to find the shop all but destroyed. The battle had clearly been waged indoors and out. Buffy, Spike and Willow stood outside, apparently just regaining their composure after a nasty fight. Dawn was sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against the store wall. She had a swelling eye and she was cradling her left arm. Willow stood next to her, holding a hand to her head, where blood was gushing from a cut above her right eye.

"Is everyone all right?" Giles asked, moving quickly to Willow and Dawn.

Buffy abruptly spun around, spotted Spike, and punched him in the face. He fell to the ground. He wiped the blood from his mouth and gave her a stunned look.

"Just wanted to get your attention, Spike," she said, tightly.

He stared up at her, confused.

"I have HAD it, Spike!" she said. "If you want to piss off the entire vampire community, go ahead, but don't expect me to come to your rescue every night! Consider yourself lucky that I don't remember the last week, otherwise I'd probably just stake you right now!"

Spike stared at her, mortified.

"Willow and Dawn could've been killed tonight!" she screamed. She glanced around for Xander. He and Anya were standing not far off, trying not to get involved.

"Xander!"

He walked over to her, but didn't say anything.

Buffy glared at Spike, who'd made no move to get up. "I need a witness who's gonna' remember this tomorrow." She took a few deep breaths, and said, "You're a danger to my family and friends, Spike, and I don't want you around anymore."

Spike stared up at her, wounded beyond speech.

"Uh, Buff. . . ." Xander began.

"I mean it Xander!" She waved at Willow and Dawn. "Dawn was almost bitten tonight and Wil was nearly decapitated by flying glass! They both almost died and it's all his fault!" she screamed, kicking Spike in the leg. He didn't say anything, just continued to lie where he'd fallen.

"It's not that bad, Buffy," Willow said, weakly. Giles held on to her and gently lowered her to the ground.

Buffy turned a stony look on Spike. "I don't know what you did, Spike, and I don't care anymore. In fact, knowing you, they probably have a really good reason for wanting to kick your teeth in." She stepped away from him. "You aren't a monster, Spike," she continued, looking at him in abhorrence. "You're worse. You're a parasite. You live off the kindness of others and all you give in return is misery and death."

Spike looked at the ground.

Dawn looked sick. "Buffy. . . ."

Buffy ignored her and gave Spike one, final look and said, very precisely, "Go. away. Spike." She turned her back on him and walked over to Dawn.

Nobody said anything for the next minute. Spike climbed slowly to his feet, not looking at anyone.

"I think perhaps you'd better go, Spike," Giles said.

Spike stared at him, defeated and broken, then turned and walked away.

 

  
DAY 9

"I can't believe you morons brought me back just to shop . . . oh, this is nice." She fingered the blue satin dress, briefly, then pulled it from the hanger.

The minions swarmed around her, anxiously. "We thought . . . perhaps. . . ."

". . .you'd like to rule THIS dimension!"

"This dimension?" she said, disgusted. She looked around the little dress shop, then sighed. "I suppose it's better than that hell dimension I was in."

"Perhaps you would like to begin by killing or enslaving those who ruined your plans before, oh Resplendent One?"

"Now, that's a good idea. Where are they?" She frowned. "Hey, wait a minute. This is familiar."

The minions didn't seem to notice her consternation. "Unfortunately, our plan to confound the Slayer did not turn out quite the way -."

"Hey!" she said, grabbing him and jerking him close. "This is the same day!"

"Ummm . . . Magnificent One?"

"We're stuck in some kind of spell. It's making the day repeat itself." She turned loose of the minion and he staggered back, looking worried, as Glory mumbled to herself.

"Resplendent One?"

"Go find them."

"Them?"

"The Slayer and her pals. They must've done this."

"I fear we are ill equipped to handle -."

"Just find them!" Glory screamed. "Then scurry back here and tell me where they are. I'll do the rest."

"Of course, oh Creamy Effervescent One. We will -."

"Go!"

 

  
Spike hadn't left his crypt all day, despite Xander's best efforts to get him to do so.

At midnight, Buffy and Xander approached Spike's crypt, noting the dust piles scattered around the area.

"Look's like Spike had visitors," Buffy said.

"Great," Xander said. "Should have realized."

"What?"

"I told you, they're looking for him. This is why we didn't do so well on the slaying tonight." He gestured. "They were all here."

Buffy sighed. "He probably deserves it. Knowing Spike. . . ." She trailed off as she noticed Spike's door ajar. She frowned at Xander, then gently pushed the door open.

"Spike?"

There was no answer.

"I'm gonna' light some candles," Xander said, and moved away.

Buffy continued forward. "Spike?"

She tripped over a body on the floor and she sprawled, face-down on the concrete.

"Hey!"

"You okay?" Xander called.

"Yeah, just tripped over. . . ." She peered at the figure, then nudged it with her hand. It wasn't Spike.

"What is it?" Xander joined her, holding two lit candles.

"Not Spike," she answered. "Some butt-ugly demon."

She stood and they squinted at the crypt, holding the candles out in front of them.

"Maybe he's down below," she suggested. Or, maybe he's dead. She didn't want to dwell on that, not, that is, until they'd searched every inch of his crypt.

"Over here, Buff," Xander said.

He was standing in front of Spike's sarcophagus, holding his candle over an inert figure.

"Hey, Spike," he said, nudging him.

He didn't move.

Xander and Buffy moved their candles over him, illuminating his entire body, then back to his face. Spike was lying awkwardly, one leg hanging over the side. It looked as though he'd made it only so far, then gave up.

"Don't see anything too gruesome," Xander said, looking him over.

"Except this piece of metal buried in his side," Buffy said. "Ewww."

"That's from this morning."

"What?"

"It's from his axe. He had a little run in with these guys last night, too."

Buffy looked disturbed at the thought. She glanced at Spike again. "Should we get it out?"

"It'll just be there again in the morning."

Buffy sighed. "Xander, this whole loopy day thing is just so -."

"Buff, believe me, it's the same day. And it's looping, not loopy."

Spike groaned and opened his eyes.

"Hey," Buffy said, gently. "Not much of a host. We had to let ourselves in and light our own candles."

Spike blinked a few times, obviously disoriented.

"So," Xander said, hoping to get him talking before he remembered the other night. "Went patrolling, but we only found a couple of vamps and some kids smooching in the cemetery." He shrugged. "So, we staked 'em and -."

"The vamps," Buffy interrupted.

"Right. Buffy gave the kids a good Slayer scolding and sent 'em home. Anyway, thought we'd stop by, see how you're doing, maybe catch Dawson's Creek."

Spike continued to stare at him.

"'Cause I've been purposely not watching it, you know," Xander went on, doggedly. "I figure if we're in this day for too long, we'll want to watch something we haven't seen yet. So . . . um. . . ."

"Spike, you okay?" Buffy asked.

A soft creaking startled them and they whirled to look at the door, aiming their candles forward. The door swung gently inward.

"See anything?" Xander whispered.

"No."

They stared for another few seconds.

"Here," Buffy said, handing Xander her candle.

She stalked toward the door. Upon reaching it, she flung it open. One of Glory's minions, leaning on the door, lurched forward when she did this, and Buffy grabbed him and hurled him to the floor.

Xander, alarmed, moved to help her.

Spike grunted and pushed himself up.

Buffy leapt through the doorway and encountered two more minions.

"Please!" one shrieked. "We mean no harm!"

"I do," Buffy said, and punched him in the face.

The blow sent him tumbling back to knock into his companion. They both fell in a heap and Buffy jumped on them. She grasped the second one by his robe and jerked him into a sitting position. She punched him in the face, twice, then let him go and stepped back to admire her handiwork. As she did so, she heard a noise in the grass ahead. She looked and saw two more minions. When they saw her looking at them they let out a startled cry and ran.

There was no point in chasing them, so she returned her attention to her captives. Okay," she began, placing a foot on the chest of the nearest one, "where's Glory?"

They stammered in terror until they'd embarrassed themselves and all manhood for decades to come and until Buffy couldn't take anymore.

"Okay!" she said. "I'm not gonna' kill you. Not yet, anyway. Just tell me what you were doing here."

They looked nervously at each other.

"Well . . . um. . . ."

"We . . . that is. . . ."

"Spit it out!"

"Her, um, Extreme . . . Splendiferousness believes one of you has cast some sort of spell, causing the day to repeat itself."

Buffy was silent for a few seconds, then, "All right, inside."

She stepped back and hauled them to their feet.

Once inside, they joined their companion, whom Xander had knocked unconscious, on the floor.

"So?" Xander asked.

"She knows the day is repeating."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know? What else do you know that I don't?"

"A lot, but we don't have time to go into it." He looked at the minions. "What do we do with these guys?"

"Leave them."

"Leave them?"

"There were two more. They got away."

"So, you're thinking Glory'll come looking?"

She nodded. "We should go." She looked around for Spike and spotted him. He was still sitting on his sarcophagus, head hanging and looking worn out and beaten down. Buffy moved to stand next to him. She took him by the arm and he flinched.

"Spike, um, you should come with us. Don't want Glory to come back here and use you for a hockey puck."

He nodded. He didn't want to argue, didn't want to talk to her. If he could just go somewhere and rest, where no one would bother him the remainder of the night, he might make it through the day without going insane. He closed his eyes and slid off the sarcophagus. Maybe he could pretend for the next several hours that nothing had happened between them, that everything was the way it was a few days ago.

"Hey!" Buffy said, as Spike's legs buckled. She caught him and Xander moved to help.

Together, they managed to walk him across the room and outside.

"Maybe I should get my car?" Xander said, upon surveying the length of the cemetery before them.

"I'm okay," Spike mumbled. He tried to shrug out of their grip and stumbled.

"Spike, stop it," Buffy said, holding him tighter. She sighed. This was her life - hauling a wounded vampire through the graveyard in the middle of the night and hoping a hellgod didn't show up to pound them into an early grave. Things really couldn't get any worse - could they?

 

  
DAY 10

Xander went to see Spike and found him lying on his sarcophagus, asleep. Xander nudged him.

"Go away," Spike mumbled, batting his hand away.

"Spike, you can't keep this up," Xander said.

"What do you care?" he asked.

"I don't, but we need everyone working on this problem."

Spike let out a mirthless laugh. "I'm obviously a bigger problem than the one you're working on, so why don't you just go back and give them a little peace of mind. Tell 'em they don't have to worry about me gettin' any of them killed anymore."

Xander didn't know what to say to him. He didn't like Spike, but he thought Buffy had been unnecessarily harsh with him. He couldn't tell him, that, however. It might ruin their relationship, built so carefully on loathing and distrust.

"I haven't told 'em about Glory. I don't see the point. She doesn't come back until tonight and she doesn't seem to get much done. If Willow can find that memory spell, we can work on the looping day problem next." He sighed. "Then, the hellgod problem. . . ."

Spike didn't respond. Xander spotted Spike's armchair - it was overturned and somewhat the worse for wear. He righted it and sat.

They sat in silence for another few minutes. Finally, Spike said, "She found somethin' the other night, before we were attacked. It was in that big black magic book she likes so well. Page 300 and somethin'."

Xander got slowly to his feet. "Um, okay. I'll go let her know." He moved to the door. "I'll, uh, stop by tomorrow, let you know how things are going."

 

  
DAY 11

It was just after one p.m. when Buffy and Xander showed up at Spike's crypt. They didn't bother knocking.

Xander strode over to Spike, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his sarcophagus, looking as though he'd been there for hours and intended on breaking his own record.

Xander took a deep breath. "Spike, you wanna' get up and come with us? Could use a little help with the hellgod problem today."

Spike, eyes closed, ignored him.

"I explained the whole thing again and, guess what, they think I'm nuts."

Buffy moved to stand in front of Spike. She glared at him, then at the empty whisky bottle next to him.

"Maybe we should all drown our problems," she said in disgust. "It might -." She broke off and peered at Spike. "What's that in your side?"

Spike closed his eyes. "You made things perfectly clear the other night, Buffy." He paused. "Just go away," he said, quietly.

Buffy frowned at Xander. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing," Xander said, quickly. He knelt next to Spike and took him by the arm. "Come on, Spike. We don't have moping on the schedule. There's no time."

He tried to pull Spike up, but Spike resisted, hissing in pain as he tried to pull away.

"Xander, stop," Buffy said. She knelt in front of Spike.

He looked away.

Buffy reached for his side, gently touching the wound. The dried blood on his shirt crinkled under her touch.

"Spike, I hate to tell you this, but you have a sliver of metal buried in your side."

"It's okay," he mumbled, still not looking at her.

Her eyes went wide. "Well, I think we should get it out."

"Just leave me alone."

Buffy glanced at Xander, then back to Spike. "Look, I don't know what's wrong here, but I do know two things. One, we've got a looping day to deal with -."

"I thought you didn't believe me."

"I'd rather believe the worst than have a nasty surprise sneak up on me later. Anyway, two, Spike's got an icky wound that we need to take care of. I'm gonna' do that while you get him some blood."

"Buff -."

"Xander, go," she said, firmly.

Xander sighed. He didn't want to leave them alone, but he didn't want to argue either. "Okay." He checked Spike's refrigerator first. It was empty. He shook his head. "I'll be back in a few," he said, giving them a last, concerned look.

When he returned, he found Spike lying on his sarcophagus, his shirt off, and Buffy swabbing the wound in his side. Spike looked like he was asleep.

"How is he?" Xander asked, approaching to stand on the other side.

"He passed out when I pulled that out of him," she said, nodding at the piece of metal. "I think it's from his axe," she continued.

"Did he, uh . . . say anything?"

She frowned at him. "No." She looked at Spike again. "What's wrong with him? Why's he acting like this?"

Xander hesitated. "You . . . you said some things to him a few nights ago. He took it bad."

"What did I say?"

"Just let it go, Buff."

"Xander -."

"No," he said, adamantly. He sighed. "We just need to get him up and around. We might need him tonight against Glory."

"He's not in any condition to patrol, Xand, let alone fight Glory."

"He's been doing all right up to now."

She look startled. "You mean, I did this to him?"

"Uh . . . Buff . . . look, can we not -."

"What did I do?"

Xander looked at her, exasperated. "It's a little of both of you, okay?"

She stared, rigidly, at him.

"You told him not to come around anymore, to stay away from you and your friends."

She stared at him, speechless.

"Look, Buff, it was a bad night, for everyone. You were just a little . . . upset."

"What happened the other night?"

"We really don't have time for this."

"Xander."

"No," he said, resolutely. He'd already said too much and their prospects for getting Spike on his feet were looking grim. Bringing Buffy was a mistake. "Maybe we should just go."

"No. I think we should -."

"I think he'd rather be by himself, Buff."

"He's unconscious."

He gestured at the whiskey bottles on the floor. "He likes being unconscious."

They continued to argue, neither willing to give in. Eventually, Xander gave up and left. He had a plethora of tomorrows and he didn't need the added irritation of arguing with his friends.

 

  
DAY 12

"Hi, Spike," Buffy said, as he and Xander entered the shop.

It had taken Xander an hour of persuasion to get Spike out of his crypt, finally insisting that nobody remembered. Xander then assured him that he hadn't honored Buffy's snap decision from the other night, mostly because he was tired of being trapped in hell-day alone.

Spike glanced at Buffy, but didn't say anything. He tossed his blanket aside and moved to the table.

"Someone's cranky in the mornings," Buffy muttered, and moved to the table as well.

Giles approached and set a pot of coffee on the table. "Xander has filled me in on the last few days and, if he is correct, we've been experiencing the same day for over a week now."

"Nearly two weeks, now, Giles," Xander corrected.

"Right." Giles cleared his throat. "Can you prove any of what you're telling us?"

Xander did all the talking for the next half hour. The meeting finally broke up at noon, with everyone going to get lunch. Spike hadn't said a word, and made no move to leave.

"Spike," Buffy said, "we're all going for lunch. Do you want me to bring you some blood?"

Spike gazed up at her, carefully avoiding her eyes. She was so lovely, standing there with the flourescent lights making her hair shimmer, and no idea she'd destroyed him a few nights ago, crushing the last of his aspirations. But, she'd been right. What could he say? He could never apologize enough. Never make enough amends.

"Spike?"

He looked away. "No."

She sighed. "Okay." She joined Xander and Anya. "He's sure taking this repeating day thing badly," she said. "Maybe we should bring him one of those flowery onion things he likes."

"Yeah," Xander said, "I'm sure that'll fix everything."


	6. Chapter 6

DAY 13

"Here," Giles said, handing a cup of coffee to Willow.

"Thanks," she said, smiling gratefully. "I don't think I'm going to get this worked out in time, Giles."

Giles sighed and removed his glasses, setting them on the table. "I'm afraid you're right." He looked at his watch. "We'd better get to the mall. Maybe we can stop this whole thing before it gets started."

They stood.

"Although. . . ." Giles trailed off, lost in thought.

"Giles?"

"It's nothing . . . just . . . I'm not sure. Something seems askew about these events." He shook his head. "It'll come to me."

"Hopefully before tomorrow."

 

  
When Giles and Willow arrived, they found that Spike's vampires had apparently followed him again. The fight was still going on as more vamps and a few demons had joined in. They'd moved the battle indoors, obviously being pursued or doing the pursuing. Giles couldn't be sure. He suspected that latter as Buffy and Spike seemed to be very . . . enthusiastic.

"I count nineteen," Giles said, watching from the entryway. "Not very appealing odds."

"If we could get Spike out of there, I could do my sunshine spell," Willow offered.

"Are you sure you've worked it out? You were having trouble limiting its range yesterday."

Willow nodded. "It's tricky," she agreed, "but I can turn it off if it gets too close to Spike."

"I hope so, or we'll never hear the end of it."

Giles left Willow to cast her spell, and joined the melee, heading for Spike. He staked several vampires before they realized he was even there.

More vampires poured in from a side entrance.

"Sheesh!" Willow exclaimed. "It's a demon convention."

As she watched, the battle quickly went south. Buffy was still holding her own, but Spike had been buried under an enormous pile of vampires. They seemed strangely intent on getting him this time.

Willow panicked and cast aside her ball of sunshine spell and mumbled a quick incantation.

Every vampire in the room started floating.

"Oh, not again!" Xander yelled. He was glad to have the vamps off of him and Anya, but he wasn't fond of Willow's floating spell. He glanced around for Spike.

Two of the vampires had grabbed him when they'd started floating, and he was trying to fight them off.

Giles leapt up and caught Spike's coat. The vampires kept a hold of Spike and continued pounding on him.

"Ow! Bloody -! Soddin'. . .ow! . . .wankers!" He tried to beat them off, but he couldn't get any leverage. He was sideways in the air with Giles gripping his duster and trying to pull him down.

One of the vamps grabbed Spike from behind, wrapped his arms around his torso, and sank his fangs into his neck, biting deep.

Spike let out a howl and tried to get free. The second vamp, holding onto Spike's lapel, pulled himself in closer and grabbed Spike's flailing arms, immobilizing him.

Giles reached up and grabbed Spike's belt and pulled him down level with him.

Xander arrived then and he jumped up and staked the vamp holding Spike's arms. He grasped Spike's duster and pulled him on down to the floor.

The second Spike's feet touched down, he regained some of his balance. He reached up, grabbed the vamp around the head, and jerked him over his shoulder. The fangs came free from Spike's throat, ripping a vicious gash across his neck.

The vamp flew across the room, smashed into a pillar, and promptly floated up toward the skylights.

Xander and Giles took Spike by both arms and held him firmly in place.

Buffy and Willow joined them.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah," Spike mumbled, not looking at her.

"Right," Xander said, "the gushing blood gives you that aspect of robust health we're all desperately trying to achieve."

Willow gasped upon noticing his neck. "You've been bitten, Spike!"

"You noticed?" he asked, sarcastically, reaching for the wound at his neck. Xander let go of his arm and gripped the back of his coat.

Xander smirked. "Kind of ironic, isn't it, Spike? Getting your neck torn open by a vampire, I mean."

"You wanna' just get me outa' this float zone?" Spike said. He was feeling light-headed and he didn't want to pass out.

They maneuvered him to a safe area, well clear of the spell, and sat him on the floor.

"Let me have a look at that," Giles said, bending to inspect the wound at Spike's neck.

"Hey!" Anya yelled. "Where are they going?"

The group turned to see where she was pointing. Half the vamps had steered themselves around the room and were pulling themselves along the escalators. Once they reached the second level, they were no longer floating.

"Should we go after them?" Willow asked.

"Why?" Xander asked, annoyed at the very suggestion.

"Let 'em, go," Spike sighed, wearily.

"He's right," Buffy said. "We don't have time for this. Glory and her scabby minions are at the other end of the mall right now. We have to stop her."

"Stop her from doing what?" Xander asked. "Shopping?"

She looked at him, stunned. "Well . . . look, I'm going. The rest of you can come or not."

She then turned and headed for the other side of the mall.

Willow followed her instantly.

Xander rubbed the back of his arm across his face, tiredly. "This day's been kicking us in the butt since it started."

"So, we're not going to help her?" Anya asked.

Xander sighed, then turned and trudged after Buffy.

Giles asked Spike, "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We'll be back for you." With that said, he got up and followed the rest of the gang.

Spike dragged himself along the wall and looked around the corner. He didn't like being left behind when a fight was brewing. It made him feel weak and useless. The last three years had made him feel that way, now that he thought of it. He sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

"Oh, most Resplendent One," a minion spoke, "we are here to serve." He waved his arms, graciously.

Glory grabbed her head. "Where am I?"

"Sunnydale."

She looked around. "I've been here before."

"Oh, yes, many times, your exquisiteness. It was your favorite place to shop -."

"That's not what I meant!" she said, slapping him. "Something's wrong!"

"No kidding," Buffy said. She kicked Glory in the chest, the blow knocking her across the room and into the food court.

Buffy ran after her, with Willow not far behind.

 

  
As Spike pulled himself around the corner, he noticed the vamps above him on the second floor. They were displaying more intelligence than usual as they cautiously tested the boundaries of Willow's floating spell, then kept moving forward. Clearly, they'd forgotten about him, or more likely, were just hungry and wanted to catch Giles and the others.

Spike glanced around, frantically. He couldn't get across the room without turning into a balloon. There were no stairs on his side. He looked up. Under normal conditions he could've easily jumped to the second floor, but he didn't think he had it in him. He stepped into the float zone and jumped, using the spell to his advantage.

He managed to grasp the railing. His legs, still dangling in the zone, began to float. Spike heaved himself up and over the railing. He wasn't floating. He sighed in relief and took off after the others.

"You know where I've been for the last ten years!" Glory screamed. "In a hell dimension! And it wasn't even MY dimension!" She advanced on Buffy. "They didn't have ONE hair salon." She grabbed Buffy around the throat. "Do you know what it's like to go for ten years having to do your own nails?" She tossed Buffy away with a flick of her wrist.

Buffy landed awkwardly, tables and chairs piled on top of her. She pushed them aside, roughly, trying to get to her feet before Glory got to her. She wasn't quick enough.

Glory bent down and picked Buffy up by her hair. "And they didn't worship me," Glory sobbed, stamping her foot. "I killed hundreds and hundreds of demons while I was there and I still couldn't get any of them to serve me." She threw Buffy across the room again. "I need minions!" she screamed. "I need to be loved and worshiped by lesser beings that dote on me!"

Before Glory could reach Buffy, she was hit by a rod of lightening. It held her tightly, jerking her around like a drunken marionette.

Buffy glanced around and spotted Willow near the entrance. Her eyes were black and lightening was erupting from her hands. After a few minutes, it seemed to wear her out, however, because the lightening faded and Glory collapsed.

Buffy picked up a chair and was on her in an instant.

 

  
Spike skidded to a halt and leaned over the railing. He just caught the tail-end of an impressive lightening display. When the light dissipated, he spotted Buffy immediately. She was beating Glory senseless with an iron chair. It eventually broke and she tossed it aside, picked up another one, and started in again. She seemed determined to get the job done again.

He heard yelling and screaming. He glanced around. He didn't see the others, and he didn't see the vampires. He looked up.

The floor above him angled sharply to the left and he could clearly see Xander and Anya fighting several vampires. Stupid, Spike thought. You don't chase a dozen vampires up to the third floor of anything. You're just asking for trouble. Spike couldn't see Giles, but he must've been up there, too, because he wasn't below helping Buffy. That led him to assume that maybe they'd been the pursued and not the pursuers. Still, trapping yourselves three floors above the ground wasn't bright.

Spike hitched himself up onto the railing, intending to jump down next to Buffy and help beat the hellbitch into a bloody smear on the floor.

A numbing, ear-splitting scream rent the air and Spike bristled. He looked up.

Anya had just been thrown over the side. Spike could see Xander at the railing, a horrified look on his face as he reached out to catch her. He couldn't reach her.

"Noooo!"

Spike looked down. Buffy and Willow had seen it, too, and both were screaming.

He looked up again. He only had a few seconds. He wasn't sure he could jump that far; he'd taken a brutal beating already. He leapt up onto the railing and dived, kicking off the railing to give him more distance.

Below, Buffy and Willow watched in horror as Spike flew towards her. Everything slowed around them, the background noise dwindled away, and Spike and Anya moved in agonizingly slow-motion, like characters performing some macabre ariel ballet.

Spike collided with Anya, hugging her to him. His momentum carried them laterally for several feet, then they stopped, abruptly, suspended 100 feet above the ground.

Time and gravity caught up with them, then, and they dropped, like birds shot from the sky. More screaming ensued - from Anya and from Buffy and Willow below.

Above, Xander and Giles watched in shocked silence as Spike whipped his body around, leaving Anya on top of him. They hit the fountain seconds later.

Buffy and Willow stared at the fountain, paralyzed.

"Well, wasn't that sweet?" Glory said, turning an evil look on Buffy. "Too bad they'll have to die anyway."

Willow, sobbing, raced toward the fountain as Buffy turned to face Glory again.

Glory, however, had had enough. "I have things to do," she said, waving a dismissive hand at Buffy. "Clothes to buy, hair to do, and an apartment to find." She looked at her minions. "Let's go!" she yelled, clapping her hands.

Buffy watched her go and decided not to chase after her. There was always tomorrow night. Besides, Anya and Spike had to be taken care of. She joined Willow at the fountain.

The water was nearly four feet deep and red with blood. Spike was on his back, with Anya on top of him, on her side, one arm under her and the other floating. Willow was in the fountain, kneeling beside them and hugging Anya to her.

Willow glanced up at Buffy. "I . . . I don't know what to do. I shouldn't have moved her, but we can't let her drown."

"I know, Wil. Is she breathing?"

"Yeah, but I don't know how badly she's hurt."

"We need to call an ambulance." Buffy looked around wildly for a phone. She spotted one just as Xander and Giles rushed into the court.

"Giles! Phone!" she yelled, pointing.

The vampires followed Xander and Giles down the stairs. They skidded to a stop, savoring the delectable buffet before them. Two of them turned and went after Giles.

Buffy saw them and leapt up. She picked up a chair and hurled it the length of the room. It hit one of the vamps, knocking him into the other, and they both crashed into a table.

Xander, ignoring the brewing battle, jumped into the fountain and tried to grab Anya.

"No, Xander!" Willow screamed. "It's bad enough that I moved her, we can't go jostling her around anymore!"

Xander gave her a devastated look.

"I don't think this blood is hers," Willow said. "I don't see any wounds. I think it's all from Spike."

Anya chose that moment to wake up.

"Ahn?" Xander stroked her hair. "Ahn, can you hear me?"

"Xander?"

"I'm here, hon. Try not to move."

"What happened?"

"You fell off the balcony."

"I'm all wet. . . ."

"Can you tell if you're hurt?"

She moved, slightly and let out a little cry of pain.

"What?" Xander asked, petrified. "Is it your neck? Your back?"

"No, my arm."

Willow pulled her up so her shoulders were out of the water. Xander grabbed her around the waist.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Willow asked.

"No."

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause we need to move you out of the water," Xander said.

"I'm okay, just be careful with my arm."

Xander gently rolled her over and scooped her up, moving slowly, then hauled her out of the fountain.

Across the room, Buffy was beating and staking everything that came near her. The odds weren't to her liking, but she was quickly whittling them down.

Giles hung up the phone and went to her aid.

In just under a minute, the remaining vampires realized their untenable position and chose to run away. Buffy and Giles let them go.

"I'm okay," Anya mumbled.

"No, you're not," Xander said. He looked up as Buffy and Giles approached. "Did you call an ambulance?"

"Yes, they'll be here in a few minutes."

Buffy returned to the fountain and peered in. She couldn't see Spike through the blood. She stepped in and knelt beside him. Feeling for him, she quickly grasped his jacket and heaved him into a sitting position.

He was unconscious, which didn't surprise her.

"Giles, I need help here."

Giles joined her in the fountain, stepping cautiously around Spike. "We've got to get him out of here before the ambulance arrives. I don't fancy explaining this to them." Giles knelt beside Spike. "My car is out back."

Buffy nodded and they proceeded to lift Spike out of the water.

"Xander, Wil," Buffy said, "we've got to take Spike -."

"I know," Xander said. "You'd better hurry."

They could hear the ambulance approaching.

"Xander, listen to me," Willow said, urgently. "I've been working on breaking the looping spell. You've got to remember some things for me, okay?"

Xander nodded, preoccupied with Anya.

"Xander, you've got to focus or I'm gonna' spend a lot of time tomorrow doing the same thing."

"I'm listening, Wil," he mumbled.

"Okay, first, the Romanian Codex of Dark Arts is useless. I spent four hours on it. Don't let me do it again."

"Romanian . . . dark arts . . . got it," he said, stroking Anya's hair.

"Second, there is no such thing as a Restoration Spell of Vergellan."

"Who's Vergellan?"

"Doesn't exist - hence the no such thing part. . . ."

Buffy and Giles manhandled Spike through the mall, outside, and to Giles' car. They were both panting by the time they reached it and they had to sit, laying Spike on the pavement. He groaned and woke up then, gazing around, disoriented.

He choked and coughed up a large amount of water and blood.

"It's okay, Spike," Buffy said, holding him as he continued to cough.

"Where am I?" he asked, weakly.

"We're at the mall," Buffy explained.

"What happened?"

"You had a little fall, and now you're talking in cliche's," she said, trying to cover her relief that he was okay. "If you don't stop you'll hate yourself in the morning."

He nodded and closed his eyes, leaning against her shoulder.

"That was a very heroic thing you did, Spike," Buffy whispered. "I won't forget it."

"Yes, you will," he muttered, and drifted into unconsciousness again.


	7. Chapter 7

DAY 14

They managed to get everyone to the Magic Box by nine. Once there, Xander explained their situation.

They didn't believe him.

"Xander, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Giles." He started pacing.

"I remember, too, Giles," Dawn said. "Sort of."

"You do?"

"Well, mostly after it happens. It's like deja vu." She brightened. "And, so does Spike." She looked at Xander. "Maybe we should get him?"

"No, let him sleep. He's had a rough few days."

Buffy and Giles exchanged surprised looks.

"When have you ever been concerned about Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Since he jumped off a balcony and saved Anya's life," he said, simply.

They stared at him, shocked.

"When did this happen?" Buffy asked.

"Last night." Xander let out a frustrated groan. "We don't have time to go over everything again."

Xander spent the morning and the majority of the afternoon at the Magic Box, most of the time giving Willow the tips she mentioned the night before, then announced his intention of searching for Glory's minions.

"Do you have any idea where to look?" Giles asked, exasperated. He hadn't decided yet whether Xander and Dawn were delusional or if there was a true threat.

"Nope," Xander answered, retrieving an axe from Giles' weapons cabinet.

"Perhaps I should go with you, then," he replied.

"Giles, I really think you need to keep working on the spell to stop them."

"Yes, you're right." He looked at the table. "Buffy, you should go with Xander."

"How about I try a locator spell?" Willow offered.

"You think that'll work? I mean, can you zero in on Glory's minions?"

"Oh, sure."

"Wow. Okay. That's better than the door to door method I was planning on."

Willow closed her eyes, concentrated, and mumbled a brief incantation. A small green orb sprung up and shot across the room.

"Uh . . . better follow it," Willow suggested.

Xander and Buffy raced after the glowing sphere.

An hour later they stopped at an old movie theater.

"Okay, should have . . . known," Xander said, out of breath.

"Known what?" Buffy asked.

"That they'd be . . . holed up in some abandoned . . . something or other. We could've just . . . checked out every . . . condemned building . . . in Sunnydale."

"Which would've taken longer."

"Okay, what do you wanna' do?" Xander asked, moving along the side of the building.

Buffy gazed up at the edifice. "Well, we could go in through the roof."

"Yeah, 'cause I've been dyin' to put my new acrobatic skills to use."

"There are stairs, Xand," she said, pointing them out.

"Okay, but what I actually meant was, do we want to go in there, hacking and slashing without any backup? We don't know how many there are and, much as I hate to admit it, we could really use Spike."

Buffy stared at him, surprised. "Really? I never thought I'd hear you say we need Spike for anything."

"Well, Doc's probably in there, and he's a handful by himself, which leaves me with a whole bushelful of scabby minions."

"Okay. I say we leave and come back with the gang and have a slaying party."

"It's a plan, then," Xander said. "Except, that we've been spotted." He pointed behind Buffy.

Two minions had just turned down the alley and stopped, shocked.

"Slayer!"

"Great," she muttered.

The minions ran inside the building and Buffy and Xander followed.

"Xander, you should go get help."

"No way am I leaving you here to take on these guys alone!"

"Xander!"

"No!"

In swift order they were set upon by eight minions. They did their best - Buffy moving through them like a cyclone, punching and kicking everything in her path and Xander hacking and slashing at anything that came near him.

After ten minutes they'd reduced the odds to two to one with Buffy and Xander backed up against a wall.

Buffy lunged forward and grabbed the nearest minion. She twisted him around and put him in a headlock. She then backed up against the wall again.

"All right," she said. "I want to know what the spell is you're going to do tonight or I'll snap Gru the Wanderer's neck here like a dry twig."

The minions stared at her, clearly weighing their options.

"We cannot reveal our plans to you, Slayer. This one is expendable, as are we all."

"Really? All of you? 'Cause Glory's gonna' be real disappointed when none of you guys are around to be her doormats tonight."

The minions gasped in alarm.

"How do you know of Glory's return?"

"I'm the Slayer." She smiled. "I know stuff."

"Speak up, guys," Xander said, swinging his axe in his hands. "We REALLY don't have all day."

They seemed to gather their wits, however, for one of them stepped forward and said, "You may kill every one of us, but nothing will stop the return of her Magnificent Resplendentness."

"Why?" Xander asked. "Because you think Doc's gonna' manage it without your help?"

They choked in shock and leapt back.

"Where's Doc?" Xander asked.

"Why, right here, dear boy," a voice above them said.

Buffy and Xander glanced up. Doc was standing in the balcony, an amused glint in his eye.

"Maybe you'd like to come down and join the party," Buffy said.

Doc smiled. "Don't mind if I do," he said, and leapt lightly over the rail.

 

  
Giles returned to his apartment at seven o'clock, having spent a useless day at the Magic Box. He wasn't entirely sure he believed Xander and Spike, but he knew something odd was going on. He briefly entertained the idea that they were having similar dreams. That didn't, of course, explain why Dawn had the vague recollection she did.

They'd left Spike behind that morning as he wasn't feeling 100% and hadn't slept much. He was still asleep on the couch and Giles didn't wake him. He went into the kitchen and set a kettle of water to boil.

Thirty minutes later, Giles was on his second cup of tea when the phone rang.

Spike jerked awake and sat up in alarm.

"It's just the phone," Giles explained, moving to answer it.

Spike ran a hand through his hair and glanced about in agitation. Had he slept all day? Was it the same day? After a few seconds of panic, he realized it had to be the same day or he'd be back in his crypt.

"I'll be right there," Giles said, and hung up.

"Trouble?"

"Yes. Buffy and Xander are at the hospital."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. That was Buffy. Apparently, her and Xander were injured in a scuffle with Glory's minions this afternoon."

"What! Why didn't someone come get me?" Spike said, outraged.

"Because, they were only supposed to locate the minions," he replied, annoyed himself, "not engage them in combat. Besides, it was still daylight."

Spike took a deep, calming breath. "How bad is it?"

"Cuts, bruises and a broken arm." Giles shook his head and sighed. "We'd better go."

Spike stood, swayed a bit, then braced himself against the couch.

"Are you all right?" Giles asked.

"Yeah, just need some blood."

"Why didn't you say something this morning?" Giles asked, annoyed.

Spike ran a hand through his hair and looked away. He was obviously embarrassed with the whole issue.

Giles looked more closely at him. He looked paler than usual. "Spike, these vampires have been after you for some time, haven't they?"

Spike tried to brush it off. "Not long. Couple of weeks."

Giles shook his head. "When was the last time you fed?"

Spike looked at the floor.

"I know they're hunting you, Spike, which makes it very difficult to get the things you need."

"I can handle it fine, Rupert."

"When, Spike?" he persisted.

Spike shrugged, uncomfortably. "I don't know. Couple of days ago."

Giles sighed, exasperated. "We're stopping at the butcher's on the way to the hospital," he said, firmly.

Before they could move, a flaming arrow sped through the front window, catching the curtains on fire, then embedded itself in Giles' armchair. Giles stopped what he was doing and ran to the window. He tore the curtains down and stomped the flames out.

Spike ran to Giles' weapons chest and selected a hefty battle axe. He headed toward the door.

Before he reached it, another arrow shot through the broken window and stuck in the wall, which promptly caught on fire.

Spike heaved the door open and found the same group of vampires still after him. The demon was there, in the lead, and apparently ready to deliver another brief statement of intent. Spike cut him off.

"I have had it with you soddin' wankers following me around every bleedin' night!" he yelled. "It's gonna' stop, you hear me?"

The demon frowned, annoyed that he hadn't got out his opening shot.

Spike made to leap through the door, but Giles was suddenly behind him, gripping his arm.

"Don't be stupid, Spike," Giles said, pulling him back. "We're seriously outnumbered here."

Spike gripped the axe harder, his demon screaming to rush outside and begin the carnage. "They're gonna' burn us out anyway, Rupert," he said, nodding to his left where a vamp was readying another flaming arrow to shoot into the apartment.

They stepped back from the door and Giles slammed it shut just as the arrow whizzed by and caught in the back of his sofa. Another arrow flew through the window, just missed Giles' head, and slammed into the wall. In seconds the room was ablaze.

Giles and Spike grabbed what they could and beat at the flames. More arrows soared through the air, cutting a neat hole in the rising smoke.

In less than a minute, the entire back wall was aflame, as well as the carpet. The smoke was becoming unbearable and Giles dropped to his knees to escape it.

Spike, still clutching the axe, raced to the weapons chest and extracted a sword. It was Giles' favorite weapon and he handled it well.

Bits of flaming debris fell on him and he gasped and brushed them off. He looked up.

The ceiling was on fire.

He quickly located Giles, who was crawling for the door. In an instant, Spike was beside him, on his knees, and pushing the sword into his hands.

"This is gonna' get ugly, Rupert."

 

  
"Oh, oh, I think I've got it!" Willow said.

"You can break the loop?" Dawn asked, excitedly.

"No, the memory spell."

The phone rang and Anya jumped up to answer it.

Willow continued to peruse her magic book, making a few notes as she went.

"Are you sure this will work?" Dawn asked.

"Yes," Willow replied, brightly. "There are just a few . . . variables I'm not certain about."

"Huh? That doesn't sound good."

Anya hung up and returned to the table. "Buffy and Xander are at the hospital."

"What happened?"

Anya explained what she new.

"They've been gone all day," Dawn protested. "What have they been doing?"

"Xander says it's a daring tale of manly heroics and a lot of hiding." She shrugged. "He says they're both okay, but we need to pick them up."

 

  
Giles scanned the courtyard, making certain they were alone, then glanced back at his place. It was well and truly ablaze, black columns of smoke jetting into the night sky. The apartment next to him was empty, but the occupants further down were already outside and milling about in the street. He could hear the fire trucks in the distance. They might yet get there in time to save part of the building.

Giles knelt next to Spike, who'd fallen onto his side against the courtyard wall. He'd lost an enormous amount of blood and it was still gushing from the wound in his back. Giles tried to roll him over, but he gasped in pain and tried to push him away.

"All right, Spike, just take it easy."

"Rupert. . . ."

"Don't talk," he said, pressing his hand against the wound. It was bad, he knew, as he felt the blood gushing into his hand. Could a vampire bleed to death? He wasn't sure but he didn't want to find out.

"How . . . many?" he asked, weakly.

"Eighteen when we started," Giles answered. Then, realizing Spike wanted to know how many he'd taken, he said, "You killed ten and wounded three, Spike. Very impressive."

He grunted in acknowledgment and leaned his head against the wall. "Finally got out of this . . . soddin' day. . . ."

"You're not dying, Spike." Giles looked around. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just drag an injured man away in front of all these witnesses. He glanced at Spike again. They probably wouldn't get far, anyway.

Spike's eyes drifted toward the fire and he watched it for a few seconds. A faraway look clouded his features and he said, "Loved Dru, you know . . . ."

"I know. You're not going to die, Spike, now stop talking."

"And . . . and Buffy. . . ."

"Yes," Giles agreed, patiently. "Now stop talking." He could hear the sirens. They were on his street now.

"Had friends, too, Rupert . . . once . . . long time ago," Spike mumbled.

"Spike. . . ."

"Will you . . . put that . . . in your watcher book?" He choked, spitting blood on Giles' shirt.

"My book? Spike -."

His eyes glazed over. "I was a . . . I was a poet, you know . . . ." he whispered. "And I . . . I missed the sun, Rupert. . . ." His head fell against Giles' shoulder and he drifted off, unconscious.

Giles stared at him, stunned.

 

  
Twenty minutes later Giles found himself in an awkward spot. The firemen were still working on putting out the flames while the EMTs treated the injured. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, except Spike, and therein lay Giles' problem.

Spike hadn't regained consciousness and by all accounts, he was dead. The EMTs didn't know what to do with him. He had no pulse and wasn't breathing, but his wound continued to bleed profusely. Giles tried to convince them that not everything was cut and dried. They insisted that science and medicine actually was very cut and dried - labeled and categorized, even. However, despite the obvious deceased status of their patient they couldn't justify letting him continue to bleed. Besides, if they didn't stop it, they'd have an ugly mess by the time they arrived at the morgue.

Giles insisted on going with them to the hospital. He rode in the back of the ambulance and watched as the EMT did his best to staunch the flow. Two minutes into the trip Spike woke up and started coughing up blood. The EMT jumped back, shocked, and the driver swerved violently, nearly veering into the oncoming traffic.

Giles was extremely concerned by this time. He had no idea what would happen once they reached the hospital. Despite the strange things that cropped up periodically due to living on a hellmouth, the doctors would likely not take this well. If Spike was still conscious when they arrived, they'd doubtless try to operate - in the improbable event they found any kind of anesthesia that would work on a vampire - and quickly find that none of his internal organs were functional.

On the other hand, if Spike lapsed into unconsciousness again, they would certainly believe him dead. They'd haul him off to the morgue where he might very well turn to dust if he continued to bleed out.

Giles was just considering their chances for a nocturnal assault on the morgue when they reached the hospital.

Spike latched on to Giles' arm with the last of his strength and wouldn't let go. He seemed vaguely aware of what was happening and where he was. Giles thought he looked scared.

They wheeled him inside, straight through the Emergency Room, where a number of people were waiting to be treated, among these, Anya, Willow and Dawn.

"Spike!" Dawn screamed, leaping up and running to him.

He looked far worse than when they'd left his apartment, Giles thought. Spike was lying on his side, the EMT holding wads of blood-soaked gauze to his back. His hands and arms were coated in dried blood up to the edges of his sleeves, and the blood had saturated the gurney past Spike's knees. Giles was worried. Spike hadn't fed in three days - he suspected it may well have been longer than that - and he'd been wounded to begin with.

"What's his name?" a nurse asked.

"Um . . . William," Giles answered.

She bent over him. "William, you've got to let go of your friend so we can take care of you." She tried to pry his hand away, but he wouldn't let go. A doctor approached and tried to get a look at Spike.

"This guy's got no vitals," the EMT told the doctor, still clearly dazed by that fact.

"What?"

"No pulse, not breathing." He shrugged helplessly.

The nurse took his pulse, shook her head, then put a hand on his chest. She looked up, startled. Giles sighed in impatience as the doctor proceeded to do the same thing, discovering what they all knew already.

Giles interjected with what he hoped was a solution. "Can you please just stop the bleeding and put him in a room?"

By this time Anya and Willow had joined them. Dawn stood beside Giles, sobbing and stroking Spike's hair.

The doctor, obviously bewildered, shook his head. "He . . . he needs surgery. That wound -."

"You can't do anything for him," Giles said, firmly. "Please believe me."

The doctor was having none of it. He started giving orders, intending to operate despite the bizarre situation.

Giles looked at Willow and Anya in frustration. Short of a violent scene, he couldn't think of anything to do. It was then that he noticed Willow murmuring. In the middle of ordering an IV, the doctor awkwardly segued into directing them down the hall and into an observation room. The nurse and EMTs didn't seem bothered by this and they quickly delivered Spike into the room, followed by Giles, Willow and Dawn. Anya waited outside for Buffy and Xander.

Once in the room, Giles gave Willow a questioning look. She gave him a knowing smile and politely asked the nurse for bandages and blood.

She happily brought them everything they asked for and left, closing the door behind her.

"What did you do to them?" Giles asked, as they applied fresh bandages to Spike's back.

"They were having trouble believing what they were seeing anyway, Giles, so I just helped them along. They won't remember we were even here."

"Wow," Dawn said. "Obi-Wan Willow. Can you teach me how to do that?"

"I'm not sure I agree with you messing about with people's minds, Willow -."

"Giles, I -."

He held up a hand. "In this instance, I think it was the best option."

She nodded and opened a packet of blood. Xander and Anya came in then.

"What happened, Giles?" Xander asked, shocked. He crossed to stare at Spike.

He was still conscious, barely, and his eyes were half closed. He didn't seem to be in much pain anymore.

"We were attacked at my place," Giles answered. "A demon and a group of vampires. They set the place on fire and we had to go outside."

Xander continued to stare at Spike, the blood on the gurney, and on the floor.

"I think he's stopped bleeding," Willow said, pulling the bandage aside.

"He hasn't fed in several days," Giles explained.

Willow looked shocked. "Here," she said, handing the packet to Giles.

They rolled him gently onto his back, lifted his head slightly, and dribbled the blood into his mouth. He swallowed some and coughed up the rest. Eventually, they stopped and let him rest. He drifted off to sleep and they sat around the small room, staring at him.

"I thought WE had it bad this afternoon," Xander said.

Giles looked at Xander. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he replied, lightly touching his head. "Got a little concussion again. They tried to convince me to stay overnight for observation. I told them it wouldn't make much difference by morning where I was. I think the doctor was thinking about a psychiatric consultation when I left."

Giles nodded. "Buffy?"

"Broken arm," he said, briefly. "They were putting her in a sling when I left."

Giles returned his attention to Spike. Dawn hadn't left his side, nor stopped stroking his hair since they'd brought him in.

"I think I've found a spell that will help us remember," Willow said.

"Ah, good," Giles said, relieved. "How difficult are we talking?"

"Very. Normally, it would be just a simple spell of remembrance, but it has to counteract . . . well . . . circumvent, really, the spell that's holding us all here. That's the tricky part, but I think I've worked it out."

"Splendid, Willow," Giles said, pleased. "We'll get on it once we get back to the shop."

"There's just a little problem," she said.

"Always is . . . ." Xander muttered.

"What problem?"

"The spell is basically altering our perception of everything around us."

"So, what's that mean?" Xander asked.

"I'm not sure exactly how it will affect us."

"Great," Xander said, rolling his eyes. "You'll probably all end up looney toons."

"Did you talk to any of her minions?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. They weren't very cooperative."

"Are they aware of what's happening?"

"I don't think so."

Giles frowned. "Why don't they know? It's their spell. I would think if anyone. . . ." He trailed off, staring at the wall.

Buffy entered the room, then, and Giles jumped up and guided her to a chair. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, it'll be a lot better in the morning," she said.

"As in never-happened-better," Xander muttered.

Buffy glanced around the room and saw Spike. Her eyes widened in shock and she crossed to the bed.

"Giles, what happened?" she asked, touching Spike's arm.

Giles explained the earlier unpleasantness again, in more detail this time, particularly noting Spike's dying words - or what he'd thought were his last words.

They simply stared at him.

"He said he missed the sun?" Buffy asked, incredulously.

Giles nodded.

"Why wouldn't he?" Dawn asked.

"Because he's a vampire with no soul, Dawn," Xander explained. "They might find the idea of instant combustion unattractive, but none of them pine after the sun like . . . like a. . . ." He stammered for a second, then settled on, "like an artist without a canvas."

"Nice simile," Willow said, smiling.

"Thanks."

"Actually," Giles said, removing his glasses, "he said he used to be a poet."

They were all silent again. Xander was the first to breach it when he let out a quiet laugh. He stopped, guiltily, when his gaze fell on the blood-covered figure on the bed.

Buffy stared at Spike's sleeping form, remembering their talk at the Bronze so long ago. He'd described his human self as some weak, untalented fool that Drusilla had rescued from mediocrity. She rested a hand on his arm, still coated in blood.

"We should clean him up," she said, quietly.

Giles cleared his throat. "We should actually try to get some more blood into him."

They proceeded to do this, with the same result. Xander watched, wondering for the first time what would happen if any of them died while the day was looping.

Giles stepped back and left Dawn and Willow to tend to Spike.

"I don't think we're going to be moving him for some time," Giles said. "Perhaps we should return to the shop and get started on the spell," he suggested.

Buffy glanced at him. "Spell?"

"Willow's going to put a spell on us to make us remember," Anya answered. "We'll all probably go insane and have to be institutionalized."

"Great."

"I'm not leaving," Dawn said.

"Dawn -."

"Buffy, I'm NOT leaving him here all alone."

"I can stay, Dawnie," Xander said. "I don't need to be mojoed."

"Actually, you do," Willow said. "You and Spike are our anchor. I'm not sure what's happened to both of you, but obviously something's protecting you. I'm just gonna' tap into whatever it is."

"Then, we should just do it here," Giles said. He turned to Willow. "How long will the staff leave us alone?"

"The rest of the night."

"Do you have a list of items for this spell?"

She nodded and dug it out of her pocket.

"I'll get these and be back shortly."

 

  
Forty minutes later, Willow had the spell cast and everyone sat quietly around the room.

Anya spoke first. "I don't feel anything."

"Well, you won't," Willow said. "Not until tomorrow."

"What if you guys go screwy on us?" Xander asked.

"I've written down a basic reversal spell," Willow said, handing him a sheet of paper. "Just get all of us together again and read that."

Xander held up the paper. "We can't take this with us, though. It'll disappear tomorrow morning."

Willow looked apologetic. "I know. You'll have to memorize it."

Xander gaped at her, then glanced at the paper again.

"Wil, this is like . . . 20 lines."

"Yep."

"This is the basic spell?"

"Uh, huh."

"Hate to see the long version," he mumbled, examining the paper.

"What about Glory?" Buffy asked, looking at Giles.

Giles removed his glasses and let them hang loosely from his fingers. "I wish I could be certain this day was going to simply start all over -."

"It is," Xander said, and returned his attention to the spell. "Hey!" he exclaimed, "this isn't even English!"

Willow gave him a sheepish grin. "Some of it is in Latin."

"Yes, well," Giles said, "if that is, indeed, the case, then we may as well spend our time working on a way to reverse the spell the minions have cast."

"And Xander needs time to memorize that spell," Willow said. She looked at Xander. He had his head in his hands and was staring at the paper on the table. "Some of it rhymes, Xand," Willow said, trying to placate him. "Kind of like Dr. Seuss."

"Yeah, well, Dr. Seuss never used words like resolvo," he said, reading from the paper, "or commemini. . . ."

Buffy spoke up. "I just don't feel right about letting them bring Glory back, even if everything goes away in the morning."

"I don't think any of you are up for taking her on anyway," Dawn said. "Buffy has a broken arm, Xander has a concussion, and Spike . . . ." She trailed off, stroking his hair again. She glanced up at them. "She'd probably kick your butts up and down the street and then use you to polish her car."

They couldn't argue with that logic, so they stayed at the hospital the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

DAY 15

Giles looked up as Anya entered the store.

"How was lunch?" he asked, off-handedly.

"Oh, okay . . . I guess," she replied, distracted.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, Xander and Spike are at our apartment."

"Why's Spike there? And you left them alone?"

"Xander didn't go to work this morning . . . . "

"Is he sick?"

"I'm not sure. . . ."

"Anya, you don't seem terribly certain about anything. Are you feeling all right?"

She sat at the table across from Giles. "I'm getting a headache.

"Um, what are Xander and Spike doing?" he asked.

"Watching a Pinky and the Brain marathon. I think they're going to sit there all day, Giles."

The phone rang and Giles picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Giles?"

"Dawn, is something wrong? Why aren't you in school?"

"Giles, do you remember what happened yesterday?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Can you tell me?"

Giles recounted his day, which held no mention of Glory or minions. "Dawn, something's wrong. What is it?" he asked, when finished.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just stuck in this recurring day that only me, Xander and Spike seem to remember, and Buffy's been cleaning the house since nine o'clock this morning - urgently - like Martha Stewart's coming for a visit." She took a breath. "And Willow's been sleeping all day. I finally got her up at eleven, then she fell asleep in the shower. She's crashed on the sofa right now. . . ."

"Dawn, you said that only you, Xander and Spike are aware of . . . what was it again?"

"The day keeps repeating, Giles. I tried to call Xander, but he's not home, or he's not answering his phone. I'm going over to see Spike -."

"He's at Xander's."

"Oh. Don't tell me they've wigged out, 'cause I don't think I can be in this alone."

"Dawn, try to calm down. Anya and I will be there in a few minutes."

"Okay. Don't be freaked out by the furniture on the lawn," she said, tartly. "Buffy's airing them out."

 

  
Giles stood, leaning against the wall in Buffy's living room. "You say that Willow cast some spell to help us remember?"

"Yeah, but it looks like it went haywire," Xander said. "On the plus side I memorized the reversal spell."

"What spell did she use?" Giles asked, still not quite believing what he was hearing.

"I don't know."

"I do," Dawn said. "I mean, I know which book she used and I think I can find it." She got up and started searching.

"All right. Perhaps I'd better have a look at it. It may still take effect. Clearly, it's done something to us." He gestured at the girls, who were seated on the floor. Willow was having trouble staying awake, Anya was lying down and holding a wet towel over her face, and Buffy was eyeing the Windex, obviously close to setting off on another cleaning binge.

Anya lifted the towel from her face, briefly. "I have this strange feeling I'm supposed to be doing something . . . or going somewhere." She returned the towel to its place. "It gives me a headache every time I think about it."

"Well, keep trying, hon," Xander said, unconcerned with her distress.

"Xander," Giles said, "Perhaps you should take her home. Resting would probably be -."

"There's no time for that, Giles!" he shouted, throwing his arms in the air and continuing to pace.

"Try to calm down," Giles said. "Perhaps a strong cup of coffee about now would be in order."

"Yeah, okay," Xander muttered.

Giles went to make coffee and Xander sat next to Anya, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Buffy got up and started polishing everything with a flat surface.

"Buff, what are you doing?" he asked, tiredly.

"Cleaning."

"Why?"

"Germs."

"Uh-huh."

Giles returned a few minutes later with a pot of coffee and several cups. He set it on the coffee table and poured for everyone.

"Willow, here, drink this," Giles said, urging her to take the offered cup. "Anya, here," he said, handing her two aspirin. He looked at Xander who was staring mournfully into the distance. "We will figure this out."

"You've said that before, Giles."

 

  
It was just after one a.m. and, after another fruitless day of research and patrolling, everyone assembled back at the Magic Box to discuss the situation again.

Spike and Xander sat glumly at the table. Spike was still pursuing his resolution of non-communication and had been disturbingly quiet all day. Xander couldn't let things lie any longer. He looked at Spike. "You saved Anya's life the other night," he said, simply.

Spike glanced at him, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks," Xander said, uncomfortably.

Spike shrugged, equally uncomfortable. "You're welcome." He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. "Doesn't matter, though. It's like nothin' ever happened."

"It matters to me," Xander said.

Spike stared, clearly not expecting anything like gratitude from any of them, especially Xander. He looked away and fixed his eyes on the wall.

Everyone else stared, too, quickly deciding that something was horribly wrong. If any of them still needed convincing, that little exchange was enough to push them over the edge. Xander and Spike would sooner kill each other as thank the other for something.

Glory turned up ten minutes later, breaking through the locked door shamelessly.

"All right," she said, clearly irritated and frustrated, "no fighting."

Buffy and the group jumped to their feet and stared at her as though she'd lost her mind.

Glory held up her hands. "I'd like nothing better than to beat the whole lot of you into a sticky paste to spread on my toast, but we seem to have a problem here, and I've really had it. I have a life to get on with and a world to conquer."

"And what makes you think we're going to help you? " Buffy asked, amazed. "Or that we need YOUR help, for that matter?"

"Well, you're obviously doing a bang-up job yourself," she sneered. "We're on day - what - eighteen now?"

"Ten," Giles corrected.

"Fifteen," Xander said.

"Anyway," Glory continued. "Someone is responsible for this and we're gonna' find out who it is so I can make a nice purse out of their spleen."

"It was YOUR stupid minions," Buffy said, moving next to the glass case where the troll hammer was displayed.

"Well, we've had a little discussion," Glory said, waving at them, "and they didn't do it."

"What exactly did they do?" Giles asked, cautiously.

Glory scowled at him.

"If we knew the spell that returned you, we may very well be able to correct whatever has gone wrong," he explained.

Glory deliberated for a minute, then nodded at her nearest minion. "Tell 'em."

"Uh, well . . ." the minion stammered, "first we used a simple location spell to find her Resplendentness, then we used the energy of the Hellmouth to open a portal -."

"Hold on," Giles said. "How did you open a portal without Dawn?"

"Oh, well, we. . . ." he trailed off, apparently not wanting to be assaulted.

"Yes?" Giles prompted, impatiently.

"We, uh . . . used the key."

"What!" Spike and Buffy shouted at the same time.

The minion backed up next to Glory. "Well, yes, we realized we could use the key to open one portal to retrieve her most Resplendent One from the hell dimension where she resided. We returned the key to her home," he held up his hands, placatingly, "unharmed and none the wiser."

Spike and Buffy were fuming.

"I don't quite understand," Giles said. "How did you use the energy of the Hellmouth if you were across town at the mall?"

"Oh, we brought Glorificus back this morning. The ritual tonight was merely to bind her to the body she now inhabits and give her complete control."

Glory looked disgusted at the excess of information to their enemies, and slapped him on the back of the head. "Idiot."

Everyone in the room stared, dumbfounded.

"You mean all this time we've been trying to stop you at the mall and she was brought back this morning?" Buffy said, furiously.

The minion nodded, then cringed, expecting another blow from Glory.

Glory, however, looked bored. "Can we get on with solving this little problem?"

"What do you suggest we do?" Giles asked, warily.

Glory looked exasperated. "Do some kind of spell," she said, waving off-handedly. "It's what you people do, isn't it?"

"We've been working on it," he replied.

"Giles," Willow whispered, "I don't see how opening a portal could make the day repeat itself."

"Hey! No whispering," Glory yelled.

"Fine," Giles said, perturbed. "Do you have some idea why this is happening?"

"ME?" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"As you're so fond of pointing out," he said, in a surly tone, "you ARE a god."

"Do not be insolent to our most Resplendent One -."

"Will you stop with the resplendent crap already?" Glory said, disgusted. "If I have to hear that word one more time I'm gonna' make soup bowls out of your heads. Got it?"

"Certainly, your a . . . iridescent . . . a. . . ."

Glory frowned and rolled her eyes as all her minions joined in in attempted praise.

". . . brilliantly. . ."

". . . frosted. . . ."

". . . opalescent . . . ."

"Effulgent One!"

"Excuse me?" she said. "What the hell kind of word is effulgent?"

"Hey," Spike said, "that's a perfectly good word."

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Giles asked, annoyed.

Glory turned on him. "I'm not leaving until someone fixes this day," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Really?" Buffy said, lifting the troll hammer off the wall. "'Cause I think we've got about all the information out of you we're gonna get, and I don't see any reason not to pound you into the next hell dimension."

"Oh, great. . . ." Xander muttered.

 

  
DAY 16

Spike blinked and looked around. He was lying on the floor in his crypt. He leapt up. He had to get across town. He moved too quickly, however. He groaned, staggered and fell into the sarcophagus, hitting his head.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. He felt his side. It was crusted with blood. Again.

Spike pushed himself up again, and stood swaying. He tented his duster over his head, picked up his axe from the floor, and rushed from his crypt.

 

  
Sunnydale High School was still a gutted behemoth that the city seemed unwilling to do anything about. Their indecision had everything to do with the Hellmouth being buried under all the rubble. Of course, not many people new about it, but enough did and those same people wanted to concrete over the entire site. Others, however, pointed out, and rightly so, that no amount of concrete would stop a horde of supernatural beasts bent on getting out if the Hellmouth was opened. These same practical people thought that they may as well build a shopping center on the site and make money while guarding it. The grotesque nature of all possible ideas kept everything very much the way it was.

Spike arrived in the remains of the library to see Dawn laid out on the floor, blood trickling from a cut in her left arm, high up.

Doc crouched next to a young woman, obviously Glory's host body, mumbling something about Glorificus. Spike got the impression that the spell was already done. The girl looked familiar. He looked more closely.

It was Tara.

Spike gripped the axe tightly. Plan A was stopping them from opening the portal. Plan B was killing the host, which Spike had every intention of doing if it came to it. He ground his teeth together. Time for plan C: kill or maim everything in the room.

Spike dived across the room, colliding with Doc. They smashed into the far wall, then fell to the ground. Spike leapt to his feet, eager to keep his advantage. He started kicking Doc, slamming his body into the wall with each blow. Several minions jumped on his back, but he snarled and hurled them across the room. Turning back to Doc, he raised his axe above his head.

 

  
Xander arrived in time to see carnage like he never hoped to see again. There were dead minions lying all around the room. Xander quickly recognized Doc, or what was left of him. He was clearly missing a few vital appendages - his head being the most notable. His gaze hurriedly swept the room. Spike was in the middle of a mound of minions, seven or eight at least, and they looked like they needed help. Spike was lashing out wildly with the axe and minions were flying through the air, smashing into walls, and generally being hacked to pieces.

Xander spotted Dawn and ran over to her. He knelt beside her and nudged her awake.

"Dawnie, can you get up?"

"Wha -?"

"I need to help Spike. Can you walk?"

He helped her sit up. "Yeah. What's going on?"

"No time now. Look, I need you to get outside to my car. Don't wait for us." He handed her the keys. "Just go. Get to Giles."

"You want me to drive your car?"

He didn't have a chance to answer as a minion careened toward them, screaming. Xander threw himself on top of Dawn and the minion crashed into the wall with a sickening thud. He didn't get up.

Dawn sat up and gaped at the scene before her. A tremendous fight was going on about twenty feet from them.

"Spike!"

Spike whirled around at her scream, afraid something had gotten her. He saw her and Xander on the floor.

"Get them out of here!"

Them? Xander glanced around, confused, then spotted Tara lying on the floor. He raced across the room and knelt beside her.

"Tara?" he said, slapping her lightly on the face. A few seconds later she woke up, disoriented.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"No time," Xander said, abruptly, pulling her to her feet. She swayed a bit, but managed to stay upright. He thrust her toward Dawn, who wasn't any steadier.

He pushed them toward the exit. "Go!"

She nodded and they left.

Xander picked up a fallen sword and moved to help Spike, glancing above him as he did. The sun was slowly worming its way across the room. Soon it would bathe the entire room and Spike would have nowhere to hide.

Spike was down to only four minions and two of them had backed off, clearly terrified. Xander swiped at them with his sword and they turned and ran. He spun back to Spike in time to skewer the nearest one. He went down and Spike snapped the neck of the other.

They stood a moment, surveying the carnage. Xander perused the room, the minions, then Spike.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah." Spike let loose a string of curses, then bent slightly, holding his side.

"You sure you're all right?" Xander asked. "'Cause you're covered in blood."

"It's not all mine," he replied, forcing himself upright.

"Well, if half of it's yours, you could be in trouble."

"I'm afraid, gentlemen, that you're both in trouble."

Spike and Xander whirled around to see Doc standing behind them. He didn't look too healthy, but he had all his parts.

Spike was furious. "What the hell does it take to kill you!"

"A lot, actually, but perhaps we should discuss the impending apocalypse."

Spike gripped his axe, and moved to stand in front of him. "How about we discuss your impendin' decapitation, mate?"

Doc smiled. "Tried that, didn't you?"

"I'm willin' to put a lot more effort into it this time," Spike replied. "Think you can put yourself back together again after I set you on fire?"

"Well, that would be most unpleasant, but I think you'll have more worries than me in the next few minutes."

Xander glowered at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Doc motioned behind them. "The Hellmouth is about to open."

"You're just using the energy," Xander protested. "You didn't need to open it."

"That's true. However, now that you've made such a mess of things, it's going to open - and stay that way." He smiled. "I'm really quite interested to see what comes through. Aren't you?"

Spike's hand shot out, surprisingly fast, and snatched a startled Doc by his shirt. "Close it."

"I can't," he said.

Spike brought his axe up to Doc's face. "Can't or won't?"

"Does it matter?"

"What do you think those demons are gonna' do to you, mate? Thank you for openin' their front door?" Spike thrust him back against one of the few remaining pillars. "They're gonna kill everything in sight, starting with us."

"Well, that does sound undesirable. But, I'm quite difficult to kill. I'm sure you've noticed." He smiled again. "Besides, they may just thank me."

Doc's tongue shot out, aiming for Spike.

Spike let go of Doc and darted sideways. Xander did the same, nearly tripping.

Spike's hand snaked out and caught Doc's tongue as it whipped back. Then, in one lightening-fast move, wrapped it around Doc's throat, twice, and started strangling him. He leaned close into his ear.

"Now, mate," Spike whispered, "here's how it's gonna' be. You're gonna' close that portal or I'm gonna' leave you here for them." Spike jerked his head to the side, indicating the portal. "You think they're gonna' stop to ask what a stupid wanker like you is doing tied to a pillar with his own tongue?" He squeezed and Doc let out a choked gasp. "Being hard to kill might not be such a gift after all."

Doc, quick to see the disagreeable aspects of his situation, nodded. Spike let go and Doc's tongue snapped back into his mouth.

The portal was starting to crack, a feint glow emanating from it. A low rumbling filled the room as the opening set off a mild earthquake. "I don't think there's time," Xander said.

"Do it now!" Spike yelled, pushing Doc toward the opening.

They watched in fascinated horror as the breach grew wider.

"Didn't you have some kind of backup plan in case you accidentally opened the Hellmouth?" Xander asked, urgently.

"Yes, actually. I was very precise with my spell." He gazed at each of them. "A demon going through is the only way to close it."

"So, you were gonna' send one of these losers through if something went wrong?" Xander asked, waving at the minions on the floor.

"Well, now I guess you get to do the honors, mate." Spike dragged him toward the opening, just inches from a ray of sunlight. It was already illuminating the portal, lending it an eerie, sinister aspect.

"It won't work, dear boy."

Spike gave him a nasty look. "Why's that?"

"I'm not a demon."

Xander scoffed. "Yeah, and Glory is Miss Congeniality."

"It's true." He stared at Spike. "I'm a demigod."

Xander and Spike exchanged a quick look.

Doc smiled again - that annoying, brazen smile that made Spike want to rip his head off and bounce it around the room. "You didn't find it strange that I had a few of the Glorious one's more . . . overt qualities?" Doc asked.

"You're a fast wanker, I'll give you that, but I think you're lying. And, I'm willin' to find out."

"Suit yourself," Doc replied, shrugging. "But it won't work. When the demons swarm through the portal I'll come back with them." His eyes sparked with obvious malice. "And I won't be kind."

Spike growled in rage and hurled Doc through the portal. They watched him land nearly thirty yards away.

"Nice throw," Xander said, absently.

They considered the situation.

"So," Xander said, gesturing at the minions on the floor, "these guys are all dead?"

"Yeah."

"Does it matter?"

"Usually."

Xander decided not to take it on assumption. He hauled the nearest minion to the portal and heaved it in. He stepped back and waited.

Nothing.

They stared at the portal some more.

"We didn't stop the spell," Spike said, "so this day's just gonna' repeat itself, you know."

"So, what are you sayin'? We should just get out of Dodge?" Xander glanced nervously at the portal again. "Leave it open and let everyone be slaughtered by a horde of demons?"

"No one will remember."

"Except Anya and Buffy and Dawn. . . ."

"You memorized that reversal spell, didn't you? They don't have to."

"And if it works as well as her memory spell?"

Spike grunted in frustration, eyeing the portal again.

"Besides, do you really want to remember Buffy and Dawn being slaughtered by the forces of hell? And maybe not killed right away, but tortured, then butchered. . . ." He trailed off, thinking about it himself.

Spike closed his eyes. He didn't want to imagine it, let alone remember it. He took a few calming breaths.

"You think we can hold them off until Giles gets here?" Xander asked, hopefully.

"No." He wished he had a cigarette.

"Way to be inspiring, Spike."

He looked at Xander. The stupid wanker. The obvious answer hadn't even occurred to him yet. "We won't have to."

Xander looked startled. "So - what? Go find a demon to toss in? It'll be a little late when we get back." He gestured wildly. Panic was fast encroaching on him. "I think we need to at least try, don't you? We can stop as many of them as we can before Giles gets here. He's probably on his way now. He'll know what to do." Xander gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands. It was wet with his sweat. The two feet of polished steel seemed pitifully inadequate. He took a deep breath, realizing what he was saying. "We have to try."

Spike stared at him. He meant it. He was going to stand there with a sword and try to stop a hundred demons from coming through an opening they were literally hell-bent on coming through. It was stupid, suicidal courage, but Spike had to admire him for it.

"You're okay, you know that, Harris?" Spike said. It was as much as he would ever admit.

Xander stared at him, mouth agape. "Yeah, well, just because we're gonna' die doesn't mean we have to turn all mushy, does it?"

Spike smirked and leaned over and picked up his axe. He looked at Xander again.

"Tell everyone. . . ." What? Final words weren't anything he'd ever mulled over. He always expected to go quickly, in the heat of battle. He let out a soft laugh. "Tell 'em the Big Bad finally turned into a poncy wanker."

Xander's jaw dropped open. He suddenly realized what Spike intended. Before he could react, Spike ran toward the portal and dived in.

Xander had only a split second to see Spike climb to his feet, and the horrified look cross Doc's face as he realized he was trapped. Spike took a few painful steps toward Doc and swung the axe at his head.

The portal snapped shut.

Xander stared at the empty space where the portal had been seconds before. He couldn't believe what had just happened.

 

  
When Xander reached Buffy's house, he found that Dawn and Tara had awakened Willow and had called Anya.

The earthquake had awakened Buffy and Giles - both of them sensing something bad - and Giles had raced to Buffy's house. They were arguing with Dawn and Tara when Xander entered. She was trying to convince them that they didn't need to go defend the Hellmouth. Xander arrived and, brushing off all questions, insisted that it was closed.

On the way over, he'd decided not to tell them about Spike - let them think he went back to his crypt. Dawn wouldn't be able to function and she was the only other person right now who had any clue as to what was happening. He wasn't sure how the others would take the news of Spike's death, but he suspected it wouldn't be well. For the first time, Xander was actually looking forward to the day repeating itself. It was Spike's only chance. If, that is, he wasn't beyond the range of the spell that was keeping the day looping.

Xander explained, in a monotone, the last week and a half, ending with the events at the Hellmouth that morning, carefully leaving out Spike's sacrifice.

They sat in silence, assimilating this latest disaster.

"I don't believe it," Willow said, pushing herself off the couch.

Tara stared sadly at her. "It's true, Willow. I was there this morning."

"And, you're sharing a body with Glory now?" Willow asked, incredulously.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it, but . . . I know something bizarre has been happening. And, her minions did catch me last night at the train station." She looked awkwardly at Xander. "Or, two weeks ago, I guess."

"How exactly did you manage to close the Hellmouth, Xander?" Giles asked, perplexed.

"It was Doc. He had a backup spell in case he accidentally opened it, I guess."

Giles nodded, not entirely convinced.

"What's wrong with Willow?" Tara asked, noting that Willow had fallen asleep on the couch, despite the calamitous news.

"I don't know," Buffy said. "We had a hard time waking her up this morning."

"Every morning," Dawn interrupted. "She's been like this ever since that memory spell she did a couple days ago, which doesn't seem to be working on the rest of you."

Tara frowned. "She did a spell to make all of you remember that the day is repeating itself?"

"Yeah. Xander memorized the reversal spell, but we wanted to wait it out and see if it might work later."

"You know," Giles said, "I've had the oddest sensation since waking this morning, that I'm supposed to be doing something."

"It must be Willow's spell," Buffy explained. "It doesn't seem to be affecting me, though."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Right, and this place looks like an open house every day."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been cleaning like a mad woman for two days." Dawn looked around. "'Course, now everything's back the way it was. . . ."

Giles smiled. "It would seem you've transferred your slaying duties to something a little less . . . aggressive."

"Cleaning?" she asked, incredulously.

Giles shrugged. "How do you feel?"

Buffy grimaced. "I'm actually thinking the windows need a good Windexing."

"Did Willow say anything about her spell?" Tara asked.

Dawn stood. "I know which spell she used. Want me to get it for you?"

"No. I'm sure it was a basic spell. She probably just adapted it to your situation. I'm just not sure what she would have done." Tara considered for a minute, then, "Every spell takes a little energy from the user. The bigger the spell, the harder it knocks you down. It's obviously drawing energy from her every morning to power itself." She looked at Willow. "I don't understand why it's affecting her so badly, though. Like I said, it's a simple spell."

"Simple or not," Xander said, "it's gotta' counteract the one that's keeping the day looping."

Tara considered this. "Of course," she said. "That other spell must be extremely powerful. Do you know who cast it?"

"Glory's minions. It happens when they bring her back every morning," Xander explained. "We're guessing it backfired on them."

"Look," Dawn said, impatiently, "what are we gonna' do about this spell thing? We obviously can't stop it in the morning. We gotta' break it somehow."

"Research," Giles said, simply.

Xander sighed. "I don't think I can take any more research parties, Giles."

 

  
Once at the Magic Box Buffy let Xander know just how annoyed she was that Spike had decided to take the day off.

"Buffy, just let it go, all right?" he said.

She turned on him. "Why are you making excuses for him? It's not like you, which is majorly weird."

"Buffy. . . ." He stopped, shaking his head.

"What?"

He pulled her out of hearing range of the others and whispered, "He's dead, Buff."

Buffy just stared at him, her jaw hanging open. "Wha - are you sure?"

He nodded, glumly. "Dead or being tortured to death." He cringed. Why had he said that last part?

"What!"

"You know the Hellmouth opened this morning and we had to close it. Doc had some freakish spell that required a demon going through to close it. Spike killed all of Glory's minions . . . so. . . ."

"He jumped in," she said, stunned.

"Yeah."

Buffy's face went pale and Xander grabbed her arm and steered her to the table. He whispered in her ear. "Don't tell anyone, especially Dawn. I think, maybe there's a chance he'll be all right."

"What? How can he be all right?"

"If this day resets itself, he may end up back in his crypt like he does every morning."

"You think this spell is strong enough to yank him out of some hell dimension?"

"Hope so."

Giles joined them then. He noticed Buffy's appearance. "Buffy, are you all right? You're white as a sheet."

She didn't seem to hear him and continued staring off into space.

"I . . . I never thanked him for anything, Xander," she said, quietly. "I told him he was nothing but a monster." She looked up at Xander, tears in her eyes. "How could I be so cruel?"

"It's okay, Buff. . . ."

Giles sat next to her. "Buffy, what's wrong?" he asked, urgently.

Seeing that it was necessary, Xander grabbed Giles by the arm and pulled him away from the table. He quickly explained what had happened.

"I don't believe it."

"It's true, Giles. Let's try and keep it to the three of us, okay?"

Giles glanced back at Buffy. She was still staring at nothing, a lone tear trailing down her cheek.

"That's not going to be easy."

Xander crossed rapidly to the table, pulled Buffy up, and steered her toward the door. "We're gonna' get donuts!" he called. He managed to get Buffy outside before anyone noticed anything was amiss.

Once on the sidewalk, he guided Buffy to a bench and sat her down.

"I should have done more, Xander," she mumbled.

"Buffy, what are you talking about?"

"I just kept knocking him down . . . telling him he was a monster. . . ."

"Let's be fair, here, Buff, he IS a monster. Vampire - remember?"

"He told me once that he could be good." She covered her face with her hands. "I could've made him good, Xander," she sobbed.

He sat next to her and put an arm around her. He was shocked at her reaction. "Look, Buff, I really think he's gonna' be okay."

She continued crying.

"Buff, you've gotta' get a grip. We have to deal with Glory."

She didn't respond, just leaned on his shoulder and continued sobbing.


	9. Chapter 9

DAY 17

Xander pushed open the door to the crypt. The dim light wasn't nearly adequate, and Spike hadn't bothered to light any of the candles. He moved cautiously, trying not to trip over the overturned furniture he knew would still be there. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he had no trouble spotting Spike on the floor. He was half lying near his sarcophagus in a pool of his own blood.

"Spike?" he called, relieved more than he realized.

He didn't respond and Xander moved to crouch in front of him. He put a hand on his shoulder and shook him.

"Spike, you okay?"

Spike's eyes fluttered open, but he didn't respond, didn't even seem to see Xander.

Xander stood and grabbed Spike under the shoulders and lifted him into a sitting position, then leaned him against the sarcophagus.

Spike groaned and leaned his head back against the stone. He took a few gasping breaths, then his eyes drifted shut again.

"Okay . . . not okay," Xander muttered, agitated. Realization dawned on him then. He thought he'd been having a bad day, straight from the Tour-of-Hell brochure, but at least he didn't have to wake up with a gaping chest wound every morning. How long did he lie here every day before he could move? Hours, probably. To top it off, he'd just returned from days, maybe months, of torture in a hell dimension. Nobody deserved this. He suddenly felt incredibly guilty.

Spike's eyes snapped open, darted frantically for a few seconds, then came to rest on Xander. He shuddered and gulped in a few raspy breaths.

"Spike, you don't have to breathe, so stop it," Xander said, worried.

Spike didn't seem to hear him or really see him, either. He started trembling, violently. He'd been hurt worse than this, lots of times, Xander knew, but he'd never seen this kind of reaction from him. Xander waved his hand in front of Spike's face. He didn't respond, just continued staring past him.

Xander paled. "Oh, man. How long were you in there, Spike?" he mumbled.

Xander gripped him by the shoulders and laid him down. He then jumped up and searched the crypt for blankets.

After a minute, he found a couple and returned to Spike. He draped them over him, then took off his jacket, bundled it up, and eased it under his head.

He found Spike's overturned armchair, righted it, and sat. He stared at Spike, and slowly shook his head. Who'd have thought he'd ever find himself taking care of a wounded vampire - and Spike in particular?

The day-that-wouldn't-end was becoming just too much to take. He glanced at his watch. Dawn had already opened the portal by now and Glory would be coming back, in Tara's body. Xander dwelt on it for only a minute before he realized he just didn't care anymore. They couldn't stop it and they would never get out of this loop. They clearly couldn't kill themselves to get out - couldn't even escape to another dimension!

He didn't want to face the others yet. He couldn't explain it to them again. Spike's death yesterday had shocked and upset Buffy more than he'd expected. She'd spent the day depressed and crying. Eventually, everyone had to be told. Dawn was still sobbing when Xander left at nine that night.

Maybe he would just stay here with Spike all day. After all, it didn't matter what he did. Everything would be the same tomorrow morning. He got up and looked around for something to drink.

Dawn came by at ten a.m., carrying a paper bag. She'd stopped at the butcher's on the way over, remembering that Spike didn't have any blood in his crypt. She tentatively pushed the door open and eased inside. She hesitated. She didn't want to go further, didn't want to find out he wasn't there.

"Dawnie?" Xander said, coming into view.

"Xander!" She rushed forward. "Is he . . . is he here? Please, tell me he's here. . . ."

"He's here, Dawn," he reassured her, then grabbed her arm as she tried to move past him. "He's not feeling too good right now, Dawn. We should let him sleep."

"I want to see him," she said, firmly.

Xander gave in and let her move past him.

She spotted Spike on the floor immediately. He was still lying on his side, a blanket covering him, and Xander's jacket under his head. He hadn't moved in the last two hours.

"Spike?" she asked, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

He didn't respond and she glanced back at Xander.

"Let him sleep, Dawn," Xander said. He didn't want her to wake him up and see the state he was in.

She returned her attention to Spike, pulling back the blanket and examining the wound in his side.

"We should do something about this," she said.

Xander tried to think of a reason not to, but couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound cruel and uncaring. Finally, he said, "Okay . . . I'll see if he has any bandages."

"We should move him downstairs to his bed."

Now, that would definitely wake him up. "That might not be so easy, Dawnie."

"Xander, he's been in a hell dimension for who knows how long," she said, angrily. "We need to make him comfortable."

Xander nodded and moved to help her. "I'll do it," he told her, bending to pick Spike up in a fireman's lift.

"Let me -."

"No, just . . . look for those bandages, and see if he has any blood here." He hauled Spike across to the ladder leading to the lower level.

"He doesn't have any blood, but I brought some."

Xander made it downstairs with surprisingly little effort and eased Spike onto the bed. Fortunately, the jarring hadn't awakened him.

Dawn joined them after a minute and set about tending to Spike.

"Should we get this out of him?" she asked, a look of revulsion on her face.

"What?"

"This piece of metal from his axe," she said.

Xander blanched. He'd forgotten about that. He crossed to Dawn and stared over her shoulder at the offending object.

"I don't think we should."

"I do," she said. "It's gotta' hurt."

"I don't think he's feeling anything right now, Dawnie. Best to leave it alone."

"Xander."

He sighed. Not gonna' win this argument, he concluded.

It took them twenty minutes to remove it, by which time Spike had woken up, moaning and fighting them. When they'd finished, Xander had a black eye and Spike was bleeding copiously.

Dawn, upset about the pain she was causing, but determined to stop the bleeding, pressed firmly on the wad of gauze over his side.

Spike, eyes open and staring vacantly at the ceiling, moaned and gripped her wrist. He was hampered slightly by Xander, who continued to hold his arms.

"Spike?" Dawn asked, timidly. "It's okay," she said, and brushed her other hand through his hair.

He didn't respond to her touch, just closed his eyes and continued to moan periodically.

"Xander, what's wrong with him?" She looked up, but Xander refused to meet her gaze. "Xander, I came by last week and he wasn't this bad. Okay, he was gushing blood, but he was coherent." She continued to stare at Xander until he had to look at her.

"He's just a little wigged out, Dawnie," he tried to explain. "Being in a hell dimension for . . . well, I don't know how long, but it's gotta' be bad on the nerves, okay?"

Her gaze fell on Spike and she noted with relief that he'd fallen asleep again.

"Will he be all right?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, trying to sound reassuring. Then, something occurred to him, which served to reassure him as well. "Angel was in a hell dimension for a lot longer - years I think - and look at him. He snapped out of it and he's back to being his broody, dead boy self."

Dawn nodded, feeling better.

After several minutes of silence, Dawn asked, "Should we tell the others, you know, about the looping day and Glory and . . . and Spike?"

"No," Xander sighed. "I'm taking today off. So's Spike. Might be takin' tomorrow off, too."

Dawn nodded in agreement.

The two of them stayed at Spike's all day, wherein they saw little improvement in his condition. Dawn wanted to stay the night, but Xander refused, insisting that Buffy would want to know where she was.

At 10:30 that night, a small group of vampires came to call on Spike. Xander managed to hold them back for awhile, but he wasn't the Slayer. Eventually, they cornered him and knocked him unconscious.

When he woke, he noticed immediately that he and Spike were chained up and hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh, great. . . ."

"Look's like dinner's ready, fellas," one of the vampires said, grinning. He moved to stand in front of Xander. "I like my meals awake and screaming. It's so much more . . . tasty."

Xander cast a quick look at Spike. He was unconscious and didn't look to be joining them anytime soon.

The vamp smirked. "He hasn't been much fun." He shrugged. "Kinda' disappointing. I thought William the Bloody would be a little more impressive in person. He didn't put up a fight at all. Gone weak, I guess."

Oddly, that irritated Xander. "Yeah, well, you weren't thinking that last week when he used your head to put a sunroof in a car."

"What are you talkin' about?"

Xander sighed. "This day has been repeating itself for over two weeks now." His gaze traveled over the group of vampires, all of which perked up at the conversation. "We've been fighting with you guys every night and I don't mind tellin' ya' I've had enough."

The vampires gaped at each other. Finally, the first looked back at Xander.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard - and we live on a hellmouth."

The others snickered.

"You mind tellin' me one thing?" Xander asked.

"Sure."

"What did Spike do to piss all of you off?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Xander gaped at him. "You don't know?"

"Hey, I'm a minion. I follow orders." He looked at the others. "Thinkin' about gettin' my own gang, though."

The others smiled and gave him words of encouragement.

"What is this, a pep rally?" Xander asked.

"Think I'd like to be a master vampire," he said, nodding and grinning at the others.

They let out a few whoops and hollers, shaking their fists in the air.

"You just can't become a master vampire," Xander scoffed. "That's like moving from the mail room to the president of the company in a day. Besides, master vampires are smart." He afforded each of them a glance. "You guys are obviously doing some kinda' time share on your I.Q."

The vampire's hand shot forward and grabbed Xander's shirt. He leaned in. "Don't much like my food gettin' snarky with me."

"Just trying to be helpful," Xander mumbled.

Fangs sank into his neck and he screamed.

 

  
DAY 19

By the third day Spike was looking better. He still had the wound in his side every morning, but he was showing signs of being his old, annoying self. Xander hadn't realized just how much he was depending on Spike to snap out of his catatonia. They were in this together and misery loves company, even if it's the evil undead. He was cheered no end when Spike called him a miserable wanker and told him to leave him alone.

Dawn came by again at ten and stayed all day. She sat next to Spike on the bed, trying not to bother him. It was difficult for her as she was thrilled that he was more alert and she wanted to talk to him.

"Spike?" she asked, after a half hour of silence. "Do you want anything? Some more blood?"

He shook his head, minutely.

She pursed her lips.

"Are you cold?" she asked, reaching for the blanket.

"No," he murmured.

She nodded and unconsciously began stroking his hand.

After a minute of this, Spike mumbled, "I'm okay, 'Niblitt."

She smiled, pleased at any remark he made. "I know . . . it's just . . . ." She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "I'm glad you're okay."

 

  
That night the vampire gang returned. Xander and Buffy were ready for them, however. They caught them before they got inside the crypt and dusted all five in short order.

"So," Buffy said, wiping her hands on her pants, "wanna' tell me how you knew they'd be here?"

"Not really." He hadn't bothered to tell anyone about the looping day. There didn't seem to be much point until he got Spike back with them.

"Okaaay," she said. "Where's Spike?"

"Why?"

She raised her eyebrows. "We're in front of his place. Are you crypt-sitting?"

"Don't know," he replied, looking away.

"Don't know if you're crypt-sitting?"

"Don't know where he is."

"You're being strange, Xand."

He stared at her, realizing he hadn't given his plan the necessary thought it required.

Buffy sighed. "Okay, Mr. Communication, spill."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Spike's not . . . he's just . . . . Don't we have some more slaying to do?"

Sensing something was up, Buffy pushed past him and headed inside.

Xander threw his arms in the air in frustration. He'd managed to get through the entire day without having to do any explaining and he didn't want to go through it now.

Buffy stormed through the crypt and immediately deduced that Spike was down below.

"Buffy, he's really -."

"Really what? Really annoying? Really obnoxious in a dead, vampire sort of way?" She started downstairs. "Really unclear about stalking laws?"

"Buff. . . ."

"Really unwelcome at any social occasion . . . ?"

She stopped and stared at the bed. Spike was lying on his back, eyes half open, and staring sightlessly at the wall. Dawn was sitting on the other side of the bed, a hand resting on Spike's upper arm.

"Dawn! What are you doing here?" Buffy crossed to stand at the side of the bed.

Dawn looked around Buffy. "Xander, you said you'd keep her away."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "My diversionary skills are lacking."

Buffy looked from one to the other, suspiciously. "All right, what's going on?"

"Spike's hurt and we're taking care of him," Dawn said. She gave Buffy a stubborn look that dared her to interfere.

Buffy looked at Spike, realizing that he hadn't spoken since she'd arrived, hadn't even acknowledged her presence.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, sitting on the bed.

Dawn glanced up at Xander. He shrugged helplessly.

Buffy, noticing, said, "Will you two stop? Spike's been hurt before. Now why are you being so cryptic?"

Xander cleared his throat and moved to stand next to her. He decided to just give it to her straight. "Um . . . well, first, he's got a broken leg and an axe wound in his side. . . ."

Buffy's face crinkled into a scowl and she gave Spike a quick once-over, putting a hand on his arm. Spike flinched and pulled his arm away.

"He doesn't like being touched so much," Dawn explained.

"You're touching him," Buffy said.

"I've been here awhile."

Buffy looked at Spike again, a twinge of concern nipping at her stomach.

"Second," Xander continued, "he just got back from a hell dimension where I guess things weren't all cheery and bright."

"What!" Buffy said. "What do you mean, a hell dimension? How long's he been like this? And, why do you two know? And, why didn't you -?"

"Buff . . . look. . . ." Xander held up his hands. He sighed, deciding to tell her everything. When he finished, Buffy simply stared at him.

"That's ridiculous."

Dawn fixed her with a steady gaze. "Just go, Buffy," she said, returning her attention to Spike.

"Dawn."

"You don't care, Buffy, so just go."

Buffy stared at her, shocked. "Dawn, I do care. It's . . . it's just . . ."

"That you can't tell him?" she said, coldly. "I know already."

"It's not like that, Dawn," Buffy protested, getting angry.

"Is so!" Dawn grabbed Spike's hand, protectively. "The things you said to him the other night, Buffy. . . ." She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"What did I say?" Buffy looked helplessly at Xander. "I don't remember."

"I don't want you here, Buffy! He doesn't want you here! Just go!"

"Ladies," Xander said. "This isn't the best time -."

Buffy became angry. "You expect me to just go off and leave you in a vampire's crypt all night!"

"See! You're doing it again!"

Spike groaned and rolled onto his side, away from Buffy, and squeezed his eyes shut. Dawn clutched him closer and rubbed his arm.

Buffy stared at them, stunned. Dawn had an undying affection for Spike, she knew, but why was Xander here? Even he seemed to feel some kind of remorse for Spike, which was almost too much to accept.

Buffy blinked. Maybe Dawn was right. Maybe she WAS heartless.

Buffy slowly reached out and grabbed the blankets bunched at the end of the bed. She dragged them up and covered Spike.

"He's cold," she explained, quietly.

Dawn gave her a small, pleased smile.

Buffy reached out and brushed the back of Spike's head. Not heartless, she thought, hopefully, just reluctant to see - and maybe a little stubborn - but not heartless. Please, don't let me be heartless. . . .

 

  
DAY 21

After five days Spike was fully alert to his whereabouts and Xander had finally emerged from his indifference. He and Spike shared his whiskey, the same bottle every day - the only perk either of them could see - and considered their options.

"I'm not explaining this to them again," Spike muttered, "I don't have the energy."

"I'm not sure I do, either," Xander admitted. "But, we need their help."

Spike staggered over to his armchair and collapsed into it. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Why don't you and the rest of the Scoobies work up a plan, then come tell me what to do. I'll be right here."

His door swung open and Dawn bounced in, carrying a bag of blood.

She noticed Spike immediately.

"Spike! You're up!" she squealed, then frowned. "Should you be up?"

"I'm okay, Niblitt."

"I brought you some blood," she said, pulling it from the bag and handing it to him.

He took the container from her. "Thanks."

"Aren't you gonna' drink it?

"Later," he said.

She pouted. "You need to drink it, Spike. I know you haven't fed in a couple of days."

How did she know that? He didn't care. Didn't want to argue. He closed his eyes.

Dawn exchanged a quick, concerned look with Xander. He shrugged.

"Look, I'm gonna' go get everyone else, bring 'em back here. See if we can get back to work on this looping day."

Spike didn't say anything.

Dawn nodded, indicating that she would stay.

 

  
They managed to assemble by noon and Xander spent thirty minutes retelling the events of the past two plus weeks. They sat around Spike's crypt, trying to make themselves comfortable.

"Giles?" Xander asked. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yes. It's just . . . something's not right." He started pacing. "You say Glory is actually returning during the morning?"

"Yeah."

"And, we believe the spell to return her is what is causing this day to loop?"

"Yes."

"Then, why is the day starting precisely at sunrise?"

"Um . . . not following you."

"If it is the spell, I would think it would begin looping the day at the moment it was cast, which, from what you've told us, is almost two hours after sunrise."

"Are we sure it was an accident, Xand?" Buffy asked.

"Pretty sure. I mean Glory is the only one of her gang that knows what's going on and she's not happy about it."

"If it were intentional," Giles said, "a person could conceivably dictate the moment the spell was to take effect."

Xander shook his head. "Still don't think it was on purpose, Giles." He threw his arms in the air. "I mean - why? Just to annoy all of us? It doesn't seem to be doing anything else."

Giles looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it WAS meant to do something else," he said, understanding creeping over him.

"Yeah," Xander said, exasperated. "Return Glory. Which they did."

He stopped in front of Xander. "I think we've been going about this all wrong."

"Meaning?"

"We should be determining why you three were unaffected by the spell."

"Well maybe we're just more sensitive to disturbances in the space-time continuum," Xander said, sarcastically. He didn't think they were getting anywhere.

Giles gave him a skeptical look.

"Maybe he's right, Giles," Willow said. She was lying on Spike's sarcophagus, trying desperately to stay awake.

"Wil, did you hit your head?" Buffy asked.

She pushed herself into a sitting position. "Well, something's happened to them," she said. "Whatever it is, it's protecting them from the spell.

Giles started pacing again. "I think it was an entirely different spell, one that somehow caught these three up in it," he gestured at Spike, Xander and Dawn, "and protected them from its effects."

"So, someone, presumably Glory's minions, cast a separate spell all together," Anya said, "to do . . .what?" She gestured. "And why these three?"

"Perhaps if we determined the when, we could determine the why." He turned to the three in question. "When were the three of you alone together?"

Xander thought about it. "The night before all this started."

"That's right!" Dawn said. "Spike and I were playing Clue Massacre -."

"What?"

"Don't ask," Buffy said.

"Anyway, Xander came over about ten and we all watched TV for awhile. . . ."

"I don't remember anything weird happening, though," Xander said.

"I can find out if there's a spell on you," Willow said.

"Let's do it," Xander said, standing.

It took her ten minutes to work up the spell, but once she was finished, she sat back, a puzzled look on her face.

"What's wrong, Willow?" Giles asked.

"Well, I think it was supposed to be some kind of baffling spell," she said.

"Well, everyone's been snockered since this day started," Xander said.

"No, I mean, I think YOU guys were supposed to be confused, not the rest of us."

"Come again?"

"Of course," Giles said, snapping his fingers. "Glory's minions didn't want any of you knowing what they were about to do - kidnaping Dawn and bringing Glory back. They wanted to confuse you, keep you from interfering." He glanced at Buffy. "I don't see why they didn't want the Slayer out of the picture, though. I would think you would be their first target."

"Well, they're not too bright," Xander said. "Maybe they forgot you'd be out slaying."

"Unless it was really late," Buffy said. "I'm usually home by one, but Willow and I were at the Bronze pretty late that night. They've probably been watching me and assumed I'd be home when I wasn't."

"So, their spell obviously backfired," Giles said, "casting the spell on the town, and inadvertently protecting these three from its effects. They must have directed it to start at sunrise the next day. Then they put some kind of spell on Dawn when they returned her to her house to keep her from remembering," Giles said. "Presumably, it counteracted - at least partially - the spell that was somehow protecting all three of them, giving her a sense of deja vu."

"Nice reasoning, Sherlock, but how can a simple spell meant to confuse us cause something really big and annoying like a looping day?" Buffy asked.

"It is a simple spell," Willow explained, "but, like all spells, you can add to it and take away - basically customize it to do exactly what you want. They probably added a word they shouldn't have or forgot to close their spell. I think I can figure out exactly what spell was used."

Giles had been lost in thought for the last few minutes. He looked up and said, "I don't think it's really going to matter."

"You're sounding all doom and gloomy, Giles," Buffy said. "Stop it."

"I'm sorry. I just don't know if we can stop it," he explained. "This is more than a simple spell to make someone forget or keep them confused."

"He's right," Willow said. "Even uttering a wrong word or two couldn't keep the day repeating like this for so long. Maybe once or twice, but not for two weeks. Something is keeping this spell going - feeding it."

They were all silent for a moment, then: "The Hellmouth," Spike said.

It took them another thirty minutes before anyone realized that they could use the energy from the Hellmouth to power their own spell to stop the loop. They spent the rest of the day helping Willow with her spell.

"I'm really impressed, Xand," Willow said, pausing from scribbling in her notebook. "You've remembered a lot of magicky stuff, even pronouncing it right."

He tapped his temple. "Like a steel trap, you know."

"Uh huh." She returned to her writing. "Where was that awesome snare in high school?"

"I wasn't desperate then."

She looked up, uneasy. "Has it really been bad?"

"You have no idea," he groaned.

"Well, maybe something good can come out of it," she suggested.

He gave her a stony look.

"Okaaay," she said, going back to her writing.

Xander looked at his watch. It was late. Glory was probably already well into her nightly shopping routine at the mall. He wondered how long it took her to figure out something was wrong with the day.

He looked at his watch again, frustrated. This was all taking way too long, but he knew they had to be precise with the spell. Rushing it could muck things up and cause something even more unpleasant, and that just did not bear thinking about.

"I can't believe we're going to open the Hellmouth," Xander murmured after a minute.

"It's the only way, Xander," Willow said. "Besides, we're not opening it - just siphoning its energy. Glory's minions do it every morning and nothing bad happens."

"Nothing bad?"

"Well, okay," she admitted, "the released energy is powering their looping day . . . and, okay, repeating day - big dohh! - but at least they're not opening the Hellmouth."

He continued to look downcast.

"It'll be okay," she said, patting his arm.

He sighed. "That's probably what they told Custer."

 

  
When they arrived at the school they found it was not as quiet as they'd expected. It was, in fact, noisy and well-lit.

"What is going on here?" Xander asked.

Giles frowned at the light emanating from the remains of the library. "I think something very bad," he answered.

"Oh, great. Care to be a little less specific, Giles?" Buffy asked.

He looked at her. "I think someone had the same idea we did."

The suggestion that someone else was fooling around with the Hellmouth was enough to send Buffy barreling down the corridor.

She burst into the room, startling Glory's minions. "What do you think you're doing?" she screamed.

They fidgeted uncomfortably from foot to foot, fingering weapons and looking for a means of escape.

"Uh, well . . ." one of them started, "her Magnificence deduced that the Hellmouth was keeping the day looping -."

"So, we are here to stop it!" another finished.

Willow and Giles entered next. "Do you know how?" Giles asked.

"No, but we know we must open the Hellmouth -."

"You can't open it, you imbeciles!" Giles shouted. "Just use its energy to power your spell."

Doc stepped out of the shadows. "I know that, of course," he said, smiling.

Giles looked worried. "Meaning?"

"My spell from this morning was very effective, enabling me to drain all the energy I needed. So, I used it again."

"And the Hellmouth?" Giles asked.

Doc smiled. "Well, that is an interesting animal, isn't it?" He paced a short distance, amused, and clearly ready to pontificate upon the matter. "Buried here like some sleeping behemoth, waiting for some ambitious creature of hell to come along and awaken it."

"Skip the discourse and get to the facts," Giles said, annoyed.

"I don't have a spell to break the loop," he replied, abruptly. "I was counting on one of you for that."

"We have one," Giles answered. "But, you couldn't depend on that, or that we'd show up here tonight."

"No, I couldn't." Doc grasped his hands lightly in front of him and rocked gently on his feet. "However, I presumed the opening of the Hellmouth would bring you here. And, if you didn't have the spell we needed," he smiled, "well we could just start again tomorrow."

Giles shook his head, incredulous.

"Perhaps we'd best get on with breaking the loop," Doc suggested, "before we lose the energy here."

Giles considered for a few seconds, then turned to Willow.

She nodded and pulled her notebook from her pocket. She opened it and began to read. Giles and Anya sprinkled various foul-smelling herbs and creature parts around the room as she did so.

They remained quiet, not wanting to breathe, lest they somehow confound her spell.

After ten minutes, Willow closed her notebook and announced that the loop was broken.

"You sure?" Xander asked. "'Cause - okay, fancy language and all - but not a very impressive light show this time, Wil."

She smiled, satisfied. "Yep, but I guess we won't really know until tomorrow."

Xander took a deep, relieved breath, then glanced at Spike. If possible, he looked more relieved than Xander.

"Excellent," Doc said.

"So, finish it," Xander said to Doc.

"Excuse me?"

"The other day when we stopped them," he said, looking at Giles, "we interrupted him before he got it done and that's why the Hellmouth opened."

Giles looked alarmed.

"Really?" Doc asked, intrigued. "May I ask what happened?"

"Spike kicked the crap out of you, buddy," he replied, jabbing a finger at him. "And don't think we won't do it again if we have to." He glanced at Spike.

Spike didn't say anything. He was eyeing Doc with a predatory gaze that sent chills down Xander's spine.

"I see," Doc said. "Interesting. But I think your efforts should be concentrated rather on keeping yourselves alive."

"Finish the spell," Giles growled, taking an ominous step forward.

Doc stood his ground. "I think not. You see," he continued, "on my way here tonight, I thought, 'what's the point of having something as fascinating as a hellmouth in one's backyard if one never plays with it?'"

Giles stared at him, appalled. "You can't leave it open."

He tilted his head, in apparent consideration. "Well, now, I think her Magnificence would prefer it open, venting its havoc and misery over an unsuspecting world."

A deep rumbling vibrated the building.

They froze in horror.

The Hellmouth was opening.

Giles looked at Doc, who simply smiled again, and began mumbling.

"Throw one of them in!" Xander shouted, pointing to Glory's minions. "If it's the same spell, a demon will close it!"

"How astute," Doc said, then gestured.

Giles and the rest of the Scoobies flew toward the ceiling, weightless, as though plucked up by a giant, invisible hand. They smashed into the remains of the ceiling, then dropped to the floor.

Spike and Giles were unfortunate enough to be standing under weakened portions of the ceiling and they broke straight through. They only traveled another ten feet, however, before the spell's momentum gave out, and they fell, too.

Buffy pushed herself up and noticed Glory's minions racing from the library.

"Wil! We've got to get them back!" She jumped up and ran after them. Willow followed.

Xander and Spike got to their feet next and quickly examined the situation.

The Hellmouth was slowly widening.

"Man, I've seen this movie before," Xander said, "and it has a bad ending." He glanced quickly at Spike, embarrassed by the implied friendship.

Spike didn't notice. He was staring at the opening Hellmouth, seemingly paralyzed.

"Uh, Spike, think we should help Buffy?" He nudged Spike's arm. "If they get away. . . ." He didn't want to think about not being able to close the Hellmouth.

Spike broke from his trance and looked around the room. He saw Doc, grinning like some deranged hyena, and thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of the looming catastrophe. It was too much.

Spike let out an enraged growl and leapt across the room. He collided with Doc and they skidded across the floor.

"Uh, okay, you take care of him," Xander said, "I'm gonna' . . . ." He glanced around and spotted Anya and Giles getting to their feet. He raced across the room and helped them.

"Ahn, you okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"Giles?"

"Yes, just another mild concussion to add to my memoirs."

"You'll have something a little more interesting to add to them if we don't stop that," he said, pointing at the Hellmouth.

They could see the demons surging on the other side, eager and bloodthirsty.

"Glory's minions got away," he explained quickly. "Buffy and Wil went after them. I was gonna' go help 'em."

"I think we'd better stay here."

"What can we do?" Xander asked, nearing panic. "Do you have a spell that will close it?"

"No."

"You don't?" Anya asked, disturbed. "I mean, keeper of the Hellmouth and all."

"I am not the keeper of the Hellmouth," he said, irritated. "Besides, this didn't involve a sacrifice or a prophecy," he explained. "Usually, an artifact designed for the purpose of opening a hellmouth is used, sometimes a certain alignment of the stars and planets will do it -."

"Giles."

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it was a spell."

"We know that."

"Which means we must use the same spell to close it or find one that will counteract this one, which is not at all feasible due to the time factor."

Giles returned his attention to the Hellmouth. It was nearly open enough for something to get through. He and Xander glanced around frantically for something to defend themselves with.


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't believe it," Buffy said, shaking her head.

"They had a car," Willow said, stunned. "Not wanting to wrap my brain around that one."

"I know," Buffy replied. "Its somehow . . . ridiculous."

"What now? I don't think we have time to look for another one."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We are so stupid."

"Um, we are?"

"We need a demon to go through the portal, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So, there are about a thousand ready to burst through right now," she said, aiming a thumb over her shoulder. "We just catch the first one and toss his scaly green butt back."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "We are kinda' dumb."

Another tremor sent them reeling.

"Come on!" Buffy said, and sprinted back to the school.

 

  
When Buffy and Willow made it back to the library they found Giles, Xander and Anya staring at the opening Hellmouth, earnestly gripping axes and swords. A vile-looking demon, snarling and panting, pushed itself through the opening. Giles stepped up, ready to decapitate it.

Buffy rushed up and hit it twice, then kicked it back through the opening.

It didn't close.

She looked at Giles.

"Yes, well, we thought of that, too." Giles smiled, proudly. "Excellent form, though. Good show."

"Thanks, Yoda," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I guess it can't be one of them," Xander said, "'cause that'd be way too convenient." He was holding his arm where he'd obviously taken a nasty gash.

Two more demons tried to break through.

Willow muttered a quick spell and they were knocked back.

They turned relieved looks on her.

"How long can you keep that up?" Giles asked.

"Not long. Once it widens and more than a few start coming through at a time, I'll be pretty much wasted."

"What happened to the minions?" Anya asked.

"They got away," Buffy answered.

"From a slayer and a witch?" Anya asked. "That's kind of . . . embarrassing, isn't it?"

"They had a car," Buffy explained.

Xander's eyes widened. "Minions with a getaway car? That's just . . . why don't we have a car? You know, a Scooby-mobile?"

"Um, hey, opening Hellmouth, here," Willow interrupted. "Priorities."

"Sorry."

They proceeded to examine the situation for the next minute, arriving at no clear solution.

"We've got to think of something."

"Stating the obvious has always been such an enormous help, Xander, thank you so very much," Giles muttered.

"How about Doc?" Buffy asked. "Maybe he knows some other way."

Giles looked exasperated as a thought hit him. "Stupid . . . bloody . . .pillock!" he exclaimed, irritated at himself.

"Giles?"

He rolled his eyes heavenward. "We can just throw HIM in -!"

"We tried that the first time," Xander interrupted. "He's not a demon."

"He's not -?" His scholarly instincts kicked in then. "What is he? Surely not a god -."

"Do we have time for this?" Anya interrupted.

"It's his spell," Buffy said. "Maybe he can reverse it."

"I doubt it," Giles said. "But, we can try. Where is he?"

They turned to look. A huge hole had been punched through the charred remains of one wall, leaving a huge gap from floor to ceiling. The object of their query was in the adjoining room and Spike was hammering him into the floor with a persistence that startled them.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled. She rushed to his side and tried to pull him off.

He wouldn't budge.

"We might need him, Spike!" she screamed into his ear.

Nothing, not even the approaching apocalypse could reach him then, and Buffy promptly realized this. She wrapped both arms around Spike's torso, braced a foot on Doc's shoulder, and pulled.

Slayer strength, formidable as it was, was obviously no match for an enraged master vampire with a mind for vengeance.

Spike stopped punching long enough to grasp Doc by the throat and start throttling. That gave Buffy the edge she needed. She groaned in frustration and pulled harder.

Spike and Doc came off the floor, locked together, Spike shaking him furiously. Doc's head seemed in danger of snapping off at any moment as it jerked back and forth like a battered rag doll that had seen one too many canine attacks.

Giles and Xander chose that moment to intervene, grasping Doc from behind. Together, they managed to pull them apart.

Giles dragged Doc another few feet from Spike and stood, holding the unconscious demigod upright.

Buffy let go of Spike and stepped back.

Spike's shirt was torn and covered in blood, some of which had spattered his face as well. He stood, glaring at Doc, his body quivering, and taking in huge, gasping breaths.

Buffy, shocked, but trying to lighten the atmosphere, despite the approaching doom, said, "Yeesh, Spike. Pent up much?"

He slowly turned to face her, but, once their eyes met, he looked quickly away. He couldn't take their piercing condemnation just now. It was too soon.

Buffy noticed the odd, pained look and his abrupt turning. What was going on? He'd been acting peculiar all day, hardly talking to anyone, especially her. . . . She abruptly realized the reason. It was her. She'd done something, said something. . . .

"Buffy!"

She jerked from her reverie.

"The Hellmouth?" Giles prompted.

"Oh, uh . . . what about -?" She gestured at Doc.

"Useless," Giles said, letting him drop to the ground, "unless we want to use his body as a doorstop."

Buffy returned her attention to the Hellmouth. It was wide enough now to allow five or six demons to come through at a time. Willow was hurling them back as fast as they came, but she looked tired.

They joined Willow and simply stared.

"I don't believe this," Anya said, scared, but annoyed at the same time. "We're about two minutes from another apocalypse and all we need is one lousy demon to stop it." She looked at the group, exasperated. "We live on the Hellmouth, for Pete's sake, and it's about to open!" She threw her arms in the air. "Where are all the big uglies? This is like Christmas for them. Why aren't they here celebrating?"

"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Where are your annoying groupies tonight, Spike? I actually wouldn't mind if they showed up right about now."

He glanced at Spike as he spoke, hoping to get a hint of amusement from him. What he saw made his eyes bug out.

"Spike?" he said.

At the odd note of concern in Xander's voice, everyone else looked, too.

Spike was staring at the opening, a look of sad resolve on his face. He hadn't heard anything anyone had said, didn't even seem to notice them anymore. This was his moment. He could wipe out every evil thing he'd ever done, every selfish act he'd performed in his life. He didn't care about redemption - knew he'd never have it, didn't even want it. But, if it could make her look at him just once without revulsion, it would make an eternity of torture worth it.

He took a deep, calming breath and turned to look at her. He gazed at her hair, her cheek, her neck, everywhere but her eyes. He couldn't bear to see the reflected monster he knew would be there, and he looked away again.

Spike took one long stride toward the opening and leapt toward it.

"Noooo!" Buffy and Willow screamed.

Giles and Anya simply looked on in astonishment.

Xander, the only one not paralyzed, and knowing that discussion wasn't an option, dived at Spike.

They collided a foot from the portal, Xander's arms coiled around Spike's legs. They rolled across the floor, toward the opening.

A demon tried to push himself through just then and, seeing the two beings at his feet, swiped a long, taloned hand at them.

Buffy snapped out of her paralysis then and lunged toward Spike and Xander, who seemed oblivious to the danger.

Buffy stopped in front of them, spun her leg around in a wide, reaping motion over their heads, and struck the demon in the chest.

The blow was so powerful it thrust the demon back through the portal, knocking aside several others that were clambering behind him. She was directly in front of the opening now, and in Willow's way. Well, Wil, needed a rest anyway, she thought, as the next round of demons surged toward her.

She whirled around them, punching and kicking, and quickly left them dead on the floor at her feet or back in their hell dimension. She'd been so swift that Giles hadn't had time to reach her. She took the brief respite and moved away from the opening.

She got out of the way just as the opening widened and another set of demons tried to get through. Willow pushed them back, not as hard or as far this time.

"Wil?"

"I'm okay, Buffy," she said. "Just better think of something quick."

She looked around for Xander and Spike and found a struggle going on across the room.

Xander was on Spike's back, straining to hold onto him and Anya was on the floor, arms wrapped around one of Spike's legs. He was dragging both of them and moving toward the portal. Spike growled in rage and frustration and jerked his arms free, throwing Xander off. Anya reached out and grabbed his other leg and wrapped her arms around both, tripping him.

Not expecting it, Spike hit the floor hard. He tried to kick Anya away, but that only sent another stabbing pain through his head. He managed to get to his hands and knees and crawled toward the portal, dragging Anya behind.

Giles tore his attention from the Hellmouth for a quick look at the wrestling match across the room. Xander and Anya had the upper hand for the moment, but only because Spike was giving himself a migraine with every blow he landed. Giles recoiled at the thought, but Spike could very well be their only option.

Buffy's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't believe this was happening. She glanced at Giles. She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and that frightened her. Giles always knew what to do. Always had an answer. She saw him look at Spike, then at the Hellmouth.

"No, Giles."

He looked at her sadly. "Buffy, I don't know what to do. It may be the only way."

Buffy shook her head, determinedly. "No." She ran across the room and threw herself at Spike. They rolled across the room and crashed into the wall.

Giles stared at the Hellmouth, confounded. He didn't know what to do. Closing it was impossible. He had no spell, no magic books, nothing at all helpful. Going all the way back to his shop was unviable. Half the town would be swarming with demons by the time he got back and worked up a spell to close the portal, if there was one. He cursed his stupidity in not coming prepared. He knew Willow's spell to siphon the energy was quite easy and safe, affording little room for error. He hadn't, however, counted on someone else beating them to it and intentionally opening the Hellmouth.

Across the room, Spike got to his knees, shaking his head, trying to clear it. Xander jumped on his back and, with a speed that astonished Buffy, put Spike in a headlock.

Buffy knelt in front of Spike and took his face in her hands.

"Spike, listen to me," she said, urgently. "You are not jumping in that portal. Do you understand? I won't let you."

He lifted his head and gazed at her. "Why?"

That shocked her. She didn't know what to say at first.

"Spike, if I mean anything to you, promise me right now that you won't try to jump through the portal if we let you up."

She stared at him while he stared at the floor, obviously dazed from the shocks his chip had given him.

"Spike?" She nudged his head a little.

He blinked a few times and seemed to come back from wherever he was.

"Okay."

She tried to pull his head up to look him in the eyes, but he struggled against her. She gave up and said, "Promise me, Spike."

A promise wouldn't mean anything to a demon. Why didn't she know that? And why was he hesitating as though it did?

"I promise," he mumbled.

Buffy let loose of him and nodded to Xander, who didn't look convinced.

"It's okay, Xand. Let him go."

Xander reluctantly released him and they all got to their feet and stared at the opening Hellmouth, Xander keeping a wary eye on Spike, lest he try to go all heroic on them again.

"Now what?" Buffy asked.

Giles looked defeated. "Closing this requires research and very probably dark magic."

"We don't have time, Giles," Buffy said.

"I know."

They stared at it some more.

"I'm gonna' go find a demon to toss in," Buffy stated.

"By the time you find one and get back -."

"It's the only thing we can do, Giles."

"The portal will be huge and I don't want to think about how many demons will swarm through by then."

"I'll hurry. The rest of you stay here and try to hold them back." She looked at each of them, then let her gaze rest on Spike. "Don't do anything stupid."

Buffy left, running.

 

  
The portal was open to nearly twenty feet, allowing numerous demons to pass through. Spike, sword in hand, was in the lead, beating them back as quickly and efficiently as possible, while Willow stood behind him, throwing back the ones that made it past Spike.

Giles, Xander and Anya stood behind her, wielding swords and axes, awaiting the inevitable.

 

  
"I don't have a lot of time," Buffy said, kicking the vampire. He spun around and fell to the ground. She dived forward and staked him before he could rise.

She whirled as she heard the last vamp running.

"Oh, no you don't," she murmured. She hurled her stake, catching the retreating vamp in the shoulder.

He stumbled, then tripped over his feet, and fell.

Buffy caught up to him and jerked the stake out of his back.

"Ow! Slayer! Watch it, will ya'?"

"Don't be such a baby." She rolled him over and punched him in the face. She heaved him over her shoulder and turned back toward the school.

 

  
The portal was sitting at forty feet across and some twenty demons were coming through at a time, forcing a retreat from the library and into the hall.

Spike was still in the forefront, taking the brunt of the battle. He was weaponless now and starting to tire.

"You notice how they're getting bigger, Giles?" Xander huffed.

The demon before him snarled and batted a taloned hand at Xander's axe.

"Yes, I'd noticed," Giles replied, skewering a surprised demon behind him.

Willow, lying on the floor, blood trickling from her nose, raised a shaking hand at the demons and muttered a spell.

They instantly slowed, making quick, jerking motions as they tried to fight the spell, but eventually they succumbed to its effects and stopped moving altogether.

Giles, Xander and Anya immediately slaughtered the ones in front of them, then glanced at Spike. He was still fighting, but he looked nearly done-in.

Giles gave Willow a puzzled look.

"Couldn't . . . do them, or . . . I'd get Spike, too. . . ."

Giles nodded and leapt to defend Spike's back. Xander followed.

Spike was battling a particularly large, vicious demon with four arms. The bottom two arms had him by the remains of his shirt, while the top two battered him repeatedly in the head. Spike had his arms in front of his face, trying unsuccessfully to protect his head.

Giles waded through the carnage, trying to reach him.

The demon tired of its game before he reached them. It grunted and hurled Spike the length of the room. He crashed into a display case, spraying shattered glass over the floor.

The demon whirled on Giles, slashing at him with its claws.

Giles skidded to a stop. He ducked under the arm, just missing the lethal blow, and slashed his sword through the creature's midriff. He stepped away as the demon fell. It took out two smaller, unfortunate demons next to him, crushing them beneath his gargantuan body.

Giles glanced around, trying to ascertain the situation. He spotted Willow, still on the floor, just as a demon pounced at her.

She screamed, unable to summon enough energy to push the demon away.

A sick feeling constricted Giles' stomach as he realized he couldn't reach her in time. He hefted his sword. He held little hope, but maybe he could spear the demon from this distance.

Before he could throw it, he saw Xander leap onto the monster's back. They crashed to the floor beside Willow, who rolled out of the way.

It was only seconds before Xander lost the upper hand. The demon pushed him off, then stabbed recklessly with his knife, catching Xander in the side.

Xander shouted, surprised and in pain, but managed to twist his body at the moment of impact. The blade slid along his ribs, leaving a nasty gash.

"Xander!" Anya said. She started beating the demon on the back of the head with her mace. It didn't seem to notice.

"Ahn, get back," Xander said. He kicked at the floor, trying to get away from the demon.

A harsh roar escaped from the creature's mouth in anticipation of the kill, as it leaned over Xander, swiping at him again with its knife.

He didn't complete the stroke as Giles skewered him from behind. The demon dropped, and began jerking and thrashing on the floor.

Giles helped Xander to his feet. "How bad is it?" he asked, quickly.

Xander examined his side, which was bleeding freely. "Uh, not so much of the good. . . ."

Giles nodded. "Stay with Willow."

He turned and made his way to Spike, who was still lying where he'd fallen. Giles knelt next to him and gave him a brief once-over. He had various cuts and gouges, probably broken bones as well, but nothing too incapacitating.

He nudged Spike, hoping he could get him up before the next wave hit. He could already hear howling and assorted disturbing noises from inside the library.

"Spike?" He slapped him lightly on the face.

Spike moaned and opened his eyes.

"Wha -?"

"Are you all right?" Giles asked, quickly.

He sat up, groaning. Giles took his arm and helped him to his feet.

"Can you fight?" Giles asked, abruptly.

"Uh . . . yeah," he said, shaking his head.

"Good, because we're about to be overrun and Willow can't help us anymore."

Spike nodded, then perused the floor for discarded weapons.

 

  
When Buffy returned, she found that the fight had expanded to the front lawn of the school. Nearly thirty demons were on the grounds, fighting insanely with each other and anything in front of them. Others, she noticed, to her dismay, were leaving the area at a dead-run, clearly not as interested in the fight as they were in a new world to plunder.

The vampire over her shoulder woke up and started squirming. Buffy dropped him on the ground. He blinked at her a few times, then settled his gaze on the melee in front of him.

"Wow." He glanced up at Buffy. "Got yer' work cut out for you tonight, dontcha', Slayer?" He jumped up and ran his hands through his hair. "You think we'll be on the 10:00 news?"

Buffy punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious again, and picked him up.

As she moved through the carnage, she purposely avoided looking for her friends. She had to close the Hellmouth and she couldn't let herself be distracted.

Once inside, she sidestepped several shrieking demons, trying to avoid any conflict until she closed the portal. She turned a corner and sprinted down the well-remembered path to the library.

The library was gone.

The Hellmouth had engulfed it, swallowing it whole.

Demons by the dozens were plunging through the opening, awash in the fever of battle lust. They didn't notice the Slayer or the demon she carried.

Buffy didn't hesitate. Once within range, she heaved the vampire toward the portal.

The vamp woke up as he sailed through the air. "Huh -? Hey -!"

He careened through the portal. "Oh, man. . . ."

The Hellmouth snapped shut.

Buffy didn't waste any time. She found a sword on the floor and turned to face the remaining demons only to find them no longer a threat.

Upon the closing of the Hellmouth, the remaining demons barreled through the school, not quite so eager with no more backup on the way. Besides, they had a world to ravage and they wanted to get to it. Buffy killed a few as they went by, but she quickly found herself alone.

She ran through the school, searching for anyone still alive.

"Buffy!"

She skidded to a halt at Giles' voice and glanced around.

"Where are you?"

"Over here."

She looked and noticed the wall shimmering. As she watched, it dissolved, revealing Giles and Willow.

"You guys okay?" she asked, cautiously.

"Not really," Giles answered. He was holding his left arm to his body while his right supported Willow. She looked ready to pass out.

Buffy lunged forward and grabbed Willow. "Wil? You okay?"

Willow nodded.

Buffy looked around. "Where are the others?"

"We don't know," Giles said. "We were overrun about fifteen minutes ago and had to protect ourselves." He walked a few paces down the hall. "I saw Xander and Anya run this way."

"What about Spike?"

"I don't know, Buffy. The last time I saw him he was fighting with Doc again."

"I don't think he can be killed, Giles. We -."

"It's irrelevant now, Buffy."

She gave him a confused look.

"I realized he could open the Hellmouth at any time with that spell of his, so I had Spike throw him in. He shouldn't be bothering us again."

She rolled her eyes. "I've heard that before."

They searched the school for the next twenty minutes, killing demons as they ran across them, and eventually stumbled upon Anya. She was hiding in the ceiling and kicked a panel out when she heard them below.

"Anya, are Xander and Spike with you?" Giles asked.

"No. Help me down."

She lowered herself and hung from the ceiling. Giles wrapped his good arm around her waist and lowered her to the floor.

"Where did you last see them?" he asked.

"They put me up there and kept going," she explained. "That way," she said, pointing.

Buffy turned to Willow, who was leaning against the far wall. "Wil, do you think you could do a locator spell to find the guys?"

Willow nodded. "Been working up to it." She cast the brief spell and a ball of green energy appeared and darted down the hall.

They followed it and eventually ended up outside and half a block away. They spotted Xander and Spike immediately. They were down on the pavement and being beaten by a group of demons. Fortunately, all appeared weaponless.

Buffy and Anya rushed toward the group, Anya picking up a fallen sword as she went. Buffy attacked the group with vigor, and the demons quickly gave up beating on the two downed men, neither of which made a move to get up.

The fight immediately turned sour for the demons, having not expected a Slayer, nor an enraged blade-wielding girlfriend to accost them. The remaining three demons ran and Buffy and Anya let them go, choosing to see how their men were faring.

They looked bad. Both were broken, bloodied and unconscious.

"Xander?" Anya felt for a pulse.

Buffy rolled Spike over and tried to wake him.

Giles and Willow arrived then and knelt beside them.

"How bad are they?" Giles asked.

"Hospital-bad," Buffy answered.

Giles nodded. They were all in a bad way and he didn't want to think about how many demons had just been turned loose on an unsuspecting Sunnydale.

 

  
They spent two hours at the hospital.

In the Waiting Room, Giles and Willow sat, waiting for the others.

Buffy joined them a minute later and said, "Spike's being cranky."

"He does have reason to be," Giles said. "He's probably in a lot of pain."

"The nurse keeps trying to take his vitals and he won't let her," she continued, "and he just told the doctor to sod off."

"Maybe I should do something?" Giles suggested, getting to his feet.

"Like explain that he's a vampire and he'll be fine once he gets a pint or two of O-negative in him?" Buffy asked.

"You're right, of course." He sat again. "I imagine Spike is going to give them something to talk about for the next few weeks."

Anya and Xander joined them a minute later. Xander sat, heavily, and leaned his head back.

"Xand?" Buffy asked. "Shouldn't you be in a room, hooked up to a machine with lots of nice drugs dripping into you?"

"He didn't want to stay," Anya answered. "I told him he'd probably get an infection and die, but he said he didn't care."

"Xander, perhaps you should reconsider," Giles said.

"I'm okay," he replied. "It's not that bad. Besides, there's still Glory to deal with and I'm not leaving you guys to do that alone."

"Much as we appreciate the sentiment, Xander, you really are in no condition -."

"Ow! Bloody hell!"

The unmistakable sound of clattering utensils and breaking glass assaulted them. They remained still, listening to the voices of the doctor and nurses.

"Sir, please. . . ."

". . .try to calm down. . . ."

"Don't pull that out!"

"Ow! Soddin' -!"

"Sir, I strongly advise you to remain here."

Another crash and the screams of the nurses erupted from the room.

Buffy and Giles looked at each other.

"Perhaps it's time we all left."

Buffy nodded.

 

  
Willow was pacing the front of the Magic Box, dried tears on her face.

They hadn't told them about Tara before as they'd needed everyone's complete focus on the job at hand.

Giles stood, leaning against the counter, an open tome before him. It was useless, as was further research.

Xander and Spike were seated at the table, silent and full of regret. Although they'd been powerless to stop it, they still felt guilty about Tara's situation.

Dawn was with them, now, as Buffy didn't want her alone. Anything that happened from here on out was permanent - as permanent as things got living on a hellmouth, anyway.

Buffy and Anya sat across from them, despondent.

"I . . . I think I've got it," Dawn said.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"How to get Glory out of Tara."

"Dawn," Giles began, clearly meaning to be patronizing. "How would -?"

"We have to kill her," she said, abruptly.

They stared at her, shocked that she would even suggest such a thing.

Willow couldn't believe what she'd heard. "What?"

"It happened with Ben, right?" she said. "Glory obviously left his body when. . . ." She glanced uncomfortably at Giles. "Well . . . you know, when he . . . died."

Giles looked at her kindly. "Dawn, perhaps you don't understand the problem here."

"I'm not a child, Giles," she said, disgusted. "We revive her."

They perked up at that.

"Buffy died once before and that was enough to break a prophecy," she explained. "If we . . . ." She didn't want to say the words again. They were somehow cold and brutal. She swallowed. "If we . . . kill her . . . we can resuscitate her and . . . and . . . she should be okay . . . right?" she finished, weakly.

Willow walked slowly to the table and stared at Dawn for a minute until she wilted under her gaze.

"You're right, Dawnie," she said.


	11. Chapter 11

The battle went on for nearly thirty minutes, leaving unconscious Scoobies throughout the mall, as well as dead minions.

Giles was the only one left standing.

Losing control over the body after a brief skirmish with Willow, Glory began morphing between herself and Tara. She panicked and ran.

Giles chased her through the mall and caught up to her in the food court.

"What'd that witch do to me?" She looked around, anxiously. "Boys!" She needed her minions. They were obsequious and irritating, but they could get her out of here. "I need you -!"

Giles bowled into her from behind and they landed in the fountain. They wrestled for only a minute before she reverted to Tara.

Giles stopped, paralyzed. He had her, but for how long? When would the spell wear off? If Glory took control of the body again, he'd have no chance of stopping her. And, if she got away, she'd likely start killing everyone. Willow had a spell that would stop her heart for a few minutes, then restart it, hopefully leaving Tara unharmed and Glory gone. But Willow wasn't here and Giles couldn't wait.

Tara gaped at him, terrified.

He had no choice.

Giles closed his eyes and plunged her bodily under the water.

 

  
Buffy woke up and found herself staring at a green mannequin. She was lying under it, as well as several clothing racks. She kicked them aside and got to her feet.

Still disoriented, she glanced around the boutique, noting the painfully pink interior. Several minions were lying around on the floor, buried under piles of clothing and fashion accessories.

She turned and, limping slightly, made her way into the mall proper.

 

  
Spike groaned and looked around. He was lying in a window display with Anya and a couple of minions sprawled on top of him. They were covered in blood and glass.

"Ahn!" Xander shouted.

He checked for a pulse, found one, then moved her out of the window.

"She okay?" Spike asked.

"Think so," Xander answered, absently. "You?"

"Yeah," Spike said. He glanced at Xander. He didn't look any too steady. "You all right?"

Xander nodded. "We'd better find the others." He picked Anya up and stepped around the minions on the floor.

 

  
Willow was wandering, dazed, through the second floor of the mall. She had a nagging sensation that she was supposed to be somewhere, doing something important. Her head hurt, though, and she couldn't remember what it could be.

She noticed the destruction all around her and decided to follow it.

 

  
Buffy and Willow arrived just as Giles was dragging Tara from the fountain. They stood, transfixed.

Tara was dead in a very obvious, blue-hued way.

Giles laid her out on the floor on her stomach and immediately started pumping the water out of her.

They broke from their torpor and rushed over to him.

"Giles?" Buffy asked in a shaky voice.

Giles didn't answer. He gripped Tara and abruptly flipped her over on her back. He felt for a pulse, didn't find one, and leaned over and started performing CPR.

Buffy sat back, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she watched Giles breathe into Tara's mouth. Willow sank to the floor, unable to cope. She was still dazed and felt like she was dreaming.

Spike, Anya and Xander arrived next. Xander laid Anya on the floor and watched as Giles tried to resuscitate their friend.

Spike looked on in weary detachment. There wasn't anything he could do. It was all too much and he was ready to shut down.

After several agonizing minutes, Tara took a breath and instantly choked up more water. Giles gripped her head gently and turned it, as she continued to retch. After a minute, she calmed and they rolled her onto her back.

Giles backed away as Buffy moved to grab her.

Buffy, sobbing, pulled her up and hugged her.

"What . . . what's going on?" Tara asked, weakly.

Buffy pulled back. "Everything's okay now," she said, trying to smile. "Everything's okay. . . ."

Tara started shivering and hugged herself. Buffy rubbed her arms.

"Here," Spike said, leaning over them. He draped his duster over Tara's shoulders and stepped back.

"Thank you," she said.

Buffy pulled Tara around and leaned her against the fountain.

"What happened?"

Buffy tried to explain, but the whole thing sounded ludicrous. She skipped the entire looping day part and skipped straight to the hellbitch chapter.

Tara took it all in with amazing composure, nodding occasionally to indicate understanding.

"Is she gone, then?" she asked, when Buffy finished.

Buffy looked uncertain. "We don't know. I think so, but Willow will have to. . . ." She glanced around for Willow. She was sitting on the floor, staring at Tara and Buffy.

"I think she's okay," Spike said, gesturing at her. "Got hit on the head."

Buffy nodded and examined the group. Spike was smoking a cigarette and sitting on the edge of the fountain. Xander was sitting on the floor next to Anya, stroking her hair. Giles was still on the floor, looking like he'd just drowned a young woman.

"Giles?"

He didn't look up.

"Giles?" She stood and crossed to him. She sat next to him and put an arm around him. He was trembling.

"It's okay now," she repeated. Why couldn't she think of anything else to say?

Giles nodded, slightly. He held his left arm against his chest. The vigorous activity had aggravated it and it ached abominably. "I'm all right, Buffy."

Tara looked at them. She quietly reached a hand out to Giles and squeezed his arm.

"Let's go home," Buffy said.

 

  
Spike walked slowly, keeping his distance from the others and staring at the sidewalk. Another few blocks and he'd turn and head for his crypt. After that, he didn't know what he would do.

He glanced up to check he was still going in the right direction and hadn't lost any of them, and noticed Buffy standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Her arms were folded across her chest and she looked. . . .

"Spike, you're holding us up."

Angry.

"Are you all right?"

Concerned?

"I don't want to have to carry you."

Annoyed, definitely.

He caught up with her and they stood awkwardly, neither looking at the other.

"I'll keep up," Spike said, and started walking.

Buffy did the same, falling in step beside him.

Spike carefully avoided looking at her because every time he did, all he saw was her face from the other night, furious and hating him.

The silence was unsettling and eventually Buffy couldn't take any more. Besides, something had been bothering her.

"Spike, was it . . . ?" How to start? "How . . . how bad was it, Spike?" she stammered.

He kept his eyes fixed on his feet as he walked. "How bad was what?" Why was she talking to him? Hadn't the last two and a half weeks been torment enough?

"The hell dimension," she said. She felt unaccountably guilty and horrified at the thought of him being there. A persistent gnawing at the back of her mind had plagued her all day - a need she couldn't explain until now. She had to know that he was all right - that he hadn't been tortured nearly insane.

Spike shrugged, still not looking at her. "Don't worry about it. I wasn't there that long."

"How long?" she asked.

"Couple of hours," he lied, casually, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"What did they . . . ?" Did she really want to know? "What did they do to you?"

Spike was getting uncomfortable. "It's nothin' I probably didn't deserve, so don't worry about it."

But she was worrying about it, constantly. Why had Xander told her? Did he think it would amuse her - the former big bad getting what he deserved? She looked at Xander, walking ahead of her. No, that didn't ring true - not the way they'd been acting all day - not exactly best friends, but not enemies, either. They seemed more willing than before to tolerate the other's presence. She got the distinct feeling that Xander had left out a lot of detail in his tale that morning.

She glanced at Spike, noting his haggard appearance. He looked like he'd jumped off a ledge a few days ago, and just couldn't reach the bottom.

She had a nagging, almost painful, sensation that she was somehow responsible for his melancholy state. He wouldn't talk to her - or anyone, for that matter, wouldn't even look at her. The longer she thought about it, the more convinced she became that she'd said or done something to hurt him.

She grabbed his arm and stopped him. He pulled back and stood waiting, still not looking at her.

"Spike, why won't you look at me?"

He cast a quick, trapped look at everything but her.

Buffy moved to stand in his line of sight. He stepped back and looked away.

She grabbed his chin and pulled his face around to her.

There. She saw it. For the briefest second, before he pulled away from her, she'd seen the pain and misery, and somehow she knew she was to blame.

Spike took another step back, the three feet separating them obviously making him feel more comfortable.

"Spike . . . ." She didn't know what to say. What had she done to him?

He glanced up, a frown on his face, then looked quickly away again. He looked like he was about to run off. Buffy grabbed his arm again, holding him tightly so he couldn't get away without fighting her.

"Tell me," she said.

"What?" he asked, looking after the retreating Scoobies.

"What I did to you."

He tried to pull out of her grip, but she just tightened it.

"I'm not letting you go, Spike. Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Still refusing to look at her, he mumbled, "Slayer, we're laggin' behind. Gotta' catch up to the others."

She moved closer to him, invading his space and making him even more uncomfortable. "Tell me."

Spike remained silent for more than a minute. Buffy grabbed his other arm and continued to stare up at him. She wasn't going to give in. She could stand there all night. After another minute, Spike must have realized this, because he looked at her and whispered, "You told me the truth, Buffy."

She stared at him, dazed. He looked away again. What must she have said? Very likely not the truth, knowing her. Probably something in the heat of the moment, but which he'd taken to heart.

"Spike, I don't know what I said to hurt you, but I'm sorry."

"Buffy," he said, trying to pull away again. She wouldn't let him. She waited, patiently, and he finally looked at her. "You showed me what I am, Buffy."

Buffy gazed at him with the horrible knowledge that she'd said something that couldn't be taken back, that she couldn't make right, and that had wounded a friend beyond recovery.

Spike shrugged out of her grip and she let her hands fall to her sides, numb. Spike backed slowly away, then turned and followed after Giles and the others. After a few seconds, Buffy did the same.

She'd managed to convince Spike to come home with them, but only because she pretended to be hurt worse than she was, and she leaned on his arm all the way to her house.

Spike wanted to take off immediately, but Xander and Giles insisted he stay. Spike only gave in when he realized he probably wouldn't make it back to his crypt in his condition. He and Xander sat at the dining room table, drinking hot chocolate and assessing their injuries. They were both wounded and exhausted and once they sat it was only a matter of minutes before they succumbed to sleep.

Buffy and Willow draped blankets over them, deciding to leave them alone, while Anya fell asleep on the couch.

Spike's demons showed up forty minutes later and planted themselves in Buffy's yard, refusing to leave until she handed Spike over. Buffy stormed out of the house, followed by Giles.

Inside, Spike, Xander and Anya remained blissfully unaware of the brewing battle on the front lawn. Willow, Tara and Dawn stood in the doorway, armed with crossbows and stakes.

"What is your problem!" Buffy screamed.

"We only got one problem, Slayer, and it's named Spike."

"That was really clever."

"Send him out."

"No."

The demon glared at her. "Let us have him, Slayer, and we won't kill you or your friends . . . ." He grinned. "Not tonight, anyway."

"What did Spike do?" Giles asked. "Why are you all so intent to kill him this time?"

One of the vampires stepped forward. "He won't let us do anything," he whined.

"Won't let you. . . ?" Giles shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Had a good plan last month to resurrect Sephethul the Ravager."

Buffy frowned. "Who?"

"Sephethul the -."

"It's Sethakul," another vampire said.

The first vamp turned on his companion. "Sephethul!"

"Sethakul!"

"Sephethul!"

"It's Sitmahkul, you morons," Giles interrupted. "And he can't be raised without an eclipse and the hair of a harpy."

The vampires scowled at each other.

"Did you read that part about the eclipse?"

"No, but I had the harpy hair."

Giles sighed. "How could you? It doesn't exist."

"Huh?"

"The harpy is a mythological creature," he explained, patiently. "She doesn't exist. Neither does Sitmahkul, for that matter."

The vamp gasped, incensed. "That witch told me it was harpy hair!"

His friend punched him. "Idiot! I told you not to trust her! She's probably tellin' everyone we're a bunch of blockheads!"

"You ARE blockheads," Buffy said. "And I'm still not seeing the big pic here, fellas."

The demon pushed the vampires aside. "We need his permission for anything big."

Buffy and Giles exchanged a confused look.

"Calamitous, apocalyptic," the demon persisted.

"I get big," Buffy said. "What's Spike got to do with it?"

The demon looked surprised. "He's the master of Sunnydale."

Buffy laughed. She glanced at Giles, but found he was staring at the assemblage with a quizzical _expression.

"Giles?"

"I think I see," he said, slowly. He turned to Buffy. "It's a hierarchy of sorts. They generally do as they please," he said, gesturing at the demons, "but if they want to accomplish something truly cataclysmic they must have the permission of the local master."

Buffy glanced at the demon again, then at the vampires behind him. "You're kidding, right?"

The vampires looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Why do you care what Spike thinks?" she asked, incredulously. "He's out killing you on a nightly basis and you still want his permission to do stuff?"

The demon shrugged. "Gotta' have it."

Giles stared at him. "Demons and vampires rarely mix socially. Why are you with them? And, why would Spike be your master?"

"The strongest and smartest is always the master. It's usually a vampire. Demons aren't too smart, but a vampire still has its human intellect."

"And this doesn't bother you?" Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, it bothers me." He smirked. "But, I don't think Spike's all that bright, and I'm smarter than most."

"I wouldn't call Mensa if I were you," Buffy said, glancing skyward in derision.

"So, why are you trying to kill him now?" Giles asked.

"Been trying for awhile. Vamps and demons have been coming to town for the last year to try and take over as master, but Spike just kills 'em."

"Oh." Buffy looked at Giles.

"Tried to raise a zombie army last month to send after the Slayer, but these bozos," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "were talkin' about it at Willie's. Spike overheard and killed most of 'em, then went on a rampage the rest of the night." He shook his head, hardly believing it himself. "Took us three weeks to recover from that."

"And he killed two of our hellhounds. . . ."

". . .the rest turned on us. . . ."

". . .that was embarrassing. . . ."

". . .and the Feast of St.Vigious is comin' up again. . . ."

"Excuse me," Giles interrupted. "This is all rather . . . fascinating, in an obtuse sort of way, but we aren't giving Spike to you, so you may as well leave while you're still able."

"Not gonna' happen." He fixed Buffy with a rigid look. "We aren't leaving until we get Spike."

Buffy sighed. "You know I'm just gonna' stake you."

"All of us?" he asked, smirking as one with superior numbers on his side.

"All I have to do is go back in the house," she said, shaking her head. "In case you haven't been keeping up, your gang can't get in unless invited."

"Yeah, well, think you can get back inside before we can take you down?"

Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "How fast do you think you can get out of my yard before I stake your sorry -?"

"Please," Giles interrupted, holding up his hands. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"Well, we ain't leavin'," the demon said.

"And you're not getting Spike," Buffy said.

"There must be some . . . understanding we can all reach," Giles suggested.

Buffy stared at him. "What? Why would we want to -?"

"Buffy," he said, pulling her aside, "we must face a few unpleasant facts here. Even if they do leave, they're still going to be after Spike."

"So, I'll stake 'em later."

"And, they'll keep coming. Maybe you should think of Spike's welfare."

"I am. If I stake them, they can't stake him."

Giles sighed. "Buffy, not everything can be solved with a shaft of wood through the heart."

"Really? 'Cause I kinda' think this is one of those situations that Mr. Pointy can fix real well."

"Hey, Slayer!" the demon called. "We ain't got all night here, you know."

"Shut up!"

"Are you going to be with Spike 24 hours a day?" Giles asked.

"No, of course not."

"Then, how do you propose to protect him? Demons can attack him at any time of the day or night."

"Well. . . ."

"And more will just keep coming to town. You really don't have time to deal with this, Buffy. More demons than I care to think about came through the Hellmouth tonight and we're going be spending a lot of time tracking them down. Do you really want to have this problem with Spike too?"

Buffy pouted. "No."

"All right, then."

They returned to the demon assemblage.

"As I was saying," Giles began, "perhaps something can be worked out."

"Only if you hand Spike over."

"And, as I said before, that's not going to happen. Now, isn't there some way that Spike can step down as master of Sunnydale?"

"Yeah."

Exasperated, Giles said, "Well? What must he do?"

"Nothin'," the demon said, shrugging. "Just step down."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Have you asked him to?"

"Yeah. He won't do it."

"Why not?"

"Says the Slayer's got enough problems without us trying to open up a portal to hell or sendin' a bunch of gargoyles to ravage the town."

"Gargoyles?"

He smiled, pleased at his apparent ingenuity. "Found a spell to animate them gargoyles on the top of the library."

"It won't work," Giles said. "It's a bad spell. It disrupts their equilibrium, making them nauseous and ill-tempered."

"Ill-tempered is what we want."

"It doesn't matter," Giles explained. "They'll just sit around, whining and vomiting up their insides until there's nothing left. It's been tried before."

"Can we get back to the topic, here?" Buffy said. "Spike, master of Sunnydale? What do we gotta' do?"

The demons glanced at each other, confused.

"Don't you have some special clause?" Buffy said.

He looked like the idea had never occurred to him, or anyone he knew. "Don't think so."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Well, what did you do when Angel returned? As Angelus he took over as master, but he was sent to a hell dimension soon after. When he came back he certainly didn't resume his duties."

"He had a soul. He wasn't one of us anymore."

"And, you think Spike is?" Buffy asked, incredulously. "He's out staking you guys every night and you still wanna' claim him?"

"Well, Angelus was . . . was. . . ." He fumbled around for a minute. ". . .consortin' with the enemy!" He glanced at his companions, who nodded and mumbled their agreement.

Giles looked like he wanted to be somewhere else.

"What?" Buffy said, icily.

"You can't shack up with the Slayer and be the master," the demon said. "It ain't right."

"Angel and I were not shacked up!" Buffy said, stepping closer.

Giles grabbed her arm.

The demon smirked. "We saw you two in the cemetery every night, kissin' and gropin' each other."

"There was no groping!" Buffy screamed.

Giles pulled her back.

The demon gave a nonchalant look. "Anyway, the master can't have a human for a mate, especially the Slayer." He looked at Giles. "It's bad for morale."

"So, he disqualified himself?" Giles asked.

"Yeah."

A thought occurred to Giles, and he gave Buffy a sideways look.

She gaped at him, as she realized what he was thinking.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

She pursed her lips.

"Buffy," Giles sighed.

"All right!" she whispered.

"What's goin' on?" the demon asked, impatiently. "We got stuff to do tonight."

"Oh, what?" Buffy asked. "Wake up a few gargoyles so they can upchuck on your shoes?"

"Hey, we got other things. . . ." he stammered. "Bad . . . evil things. . . ."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And I thought Spike was pathetic."

Giles cleared his throat.

"Okay, okay," she said. She turned to face the demon. "You guys aren't too up on things, because Spike and I have been dating for a month."

The entire group spluttered in surprise and outrage.

"We haven't seen you together," the demon said.

"We slay every night."

"That ain't the same thing."

"We like to stay in."

"How come we see you at the Bronze without him, huh?"

"Spike doesn't like to dance."

The vampires started grumbling, unwilling to accept this turn of events.

The demon shook his head. "We don't believe you, Slayer. You gotta' prove it."

She gaped at them. "What do you want, a double date?"

The demon considered this for a minute, then shrugged. "Okay."

"What? I'm not going out with you and some scanky demon girl!"

The demon scoffed, offended. "At least I stick to my own kind, vamp kisser!"

"I am not a vamp kisser!"

The demon threw his arms in the air in mock surrender. "I'll make out with you if I have to, Slayer, just please don't stake me! I have a family!"

The vamps howled, nearly hysterical.

"Be gentle with me, Slayer, I have a weak heart - Hey! - Urrk!"

Buffy had him by the neck. She whipped a stake from her back pocket.

"Buffy!"

Giles struggled for a few seconds and finally pulled them apart.

"Now, look," he said, addressing the demon, "we've given you sufficient reason not to consider Spike your master. Whether you accept it or not is up to you, but I would think you would jump at the chance to dissociate yourself from him."

The demons formed a huddle and discussed the situation. After a minute, they parted and the demon turned back to Giles, ignoring Buffy.

"Okay," he said, "but if we don't see him and her," he jerked a thumb at Buffy, "together some time, we're gonna' go after him again." He gave them a firm look. "Rules is rules, you know."

Giles looked relieved. Buffy just looked irritated. Giles grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

"Excellent," he said. "You can be on your way, then."

The demons turned and sidled off, some grumbling and kicking at the yard as they went.

Buffy turned to Giles, horrified. "What did we just do?"

"I think you just made a date with Spike." He laughed. "Perhaps you'd better tell him."

 

  
Xander woke up, instantly alert. He glanced anxiously around the room. He was in Buffy's dining room. Spike was next to him, still asleep. He reached out and nudged him roughly.

"Spike!"

"Lemme' alone," he mumbled.

"Spike, wake up,"

Spike opened his eyes.

"What the bloody -?"

"It's the next day," Xander said, simply.

"Huh?" Spike looked around, confused. He clutched at his side, feeling the wound. He let out a sigh when he realized the chunk of metal wasn't buried in him again.

"Hey!" Willow screamed.

Spike and Xander jumped up and ran into the living room. Giles and Anya were still asleep, she on the couch and he in an armchair, and Willow and Tara were standing in the middle of the room.

"What's wrong, Red!"

"I remember!" she said. "Oh, this is so . . . Giles, wake up!" she said, punching his arm.

Giles opened his eyes and peered up at Willow. "What is it?"

"Do you remember?"

"Um . . . ." He squinted, seemingly focusing on something in the distance. "Yes, actually, I do."

"Great," Spike murmured. "Just in time to be helpful."

Tara gently tapped Anya on the arm, waking her.

Willow was pacing around the room, amazed at the sudden onslaught of memories. "Oh, I can't believe . . . we fought Glory in an alley. . . ."

"Yeah," Xander said, "that was a whole lot of fun."

"I fell off the balcony!" Anya screamed, jumping up. "I almost died!"

"Yes, but you're fine now," Giles said, trying to calm everyone down.

"But, I'm too young to die," she protested. "I haven't acquired nearly enough money."

Xander crossed to her. "Ahn, you're fine. And, haven't you heard the saying, you can't take it with you?"

"Take what?"

"Your money. When you die. Which will be a long, long time from now."

"Oh, I think I can. I've been working on a spell. . . ."

"My gladiator spell!" Willow shrieked, delighted. Then she noticed Spike. "Oh, sorry about that."

"It's okay."

Buffy and Dawn came downstairs in their pajamas and rubbing their eyes.

"You guys are up kinda' early, aren't you?" Buffy said.

"Buffy," Willow said, excitedly, "do you remember?"

Buffy frowned. "Um . . . yeah." She glanced at each of them. "Weird." She looked at Spike and a horrified _expression clouded her face.

"Oh, Spike," Willow said, remembering something else. "I set your head on fire."

"It healed up okay, Red," he said, trying to avoid Buffy's gaze.

"I'm sooo sorry. No more sunshine spells."

"It's okay." He was feeling extremely uncomfortable now that Buffy remembered.

"This is so bizarre," Anya said. "I remember two weeks of my life, but I feel like I didn't really live it."

"Well, now it's all over. . . ." Xander said, clearly not wanting to relive any of it.

"The shop!" Anya screamed. "We destroyed the shop last week!"

"It's fine, Ahn."

"I have to check," she said, moving to the door.

"We were just there yesterday."

"Are you coming, Xander?" she asked, already at the door.

Xander sighed and started across the room. He stopped and turned back to Spike.

They looked at each other for an uncomfortable moment.

"So, uh . . . you feel up to some pool tonight, Evil Dead?"

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

Xander grinned. "We gotta' talk about your wardrobe for the wedding, 'cause you can't wear that."

Spike looked pleased, but scoffed, nonetheless. "No one's gonna' care what I'm wearin'."

"Yeah, well, I still need a best man and you can't wear leather and combat boots. It might give the wrong impression."

Spike looked stunned, but tried to hide his delight. "Yeah, well, my wardrobe's the least of your worries if you haven't taken a look at Demon Girl's guest list yet."

"Xander!" Anya said, impatiently.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Catcha' later."

Spike nodded.

Xander and Anya left and Giles, remembering last night's quick fix with Spike's vamp buddies, and not wanting to be around for the imminent conversation, quickly followed.

"Spike. . . ." Buffy said.

He glanced at her, then looked away. He shrugged out of his coat and headed for the door, tenting his duster over his head.

"Spike, stay," Buffy said. "Please."

Willow and Tara exchanged an uneasy look, then excused themselves.

Dawn moved to Spike and took his coat. "Hey, don't want you to get crispy-fried," she said, awkwardly. She glanced at Buffy. "Um, I'm gonna' go get some breakfast." She hurried to the kitchen, leaving a very tense Spike and Buffy.

"Come sit down," Buffy said.

Reluctantly, Spike followed her into the living room. She sat on the couch and stared at him until he sat, too.

"Spike, I . . . I said some horrible things to you the other night. . . ."

"Buffy. . . ."

"No, let me say this."

"There's nothing to say. You were right."

"No, I wasn't." She took a deep breath. "You were right, Spike, when you told me you could be good."

Spike shook his head, about to protest again. Buffy cut him off.

"You WERE right, Spike and I've been unfair to you. Actually, I've been pretty horrible."

"It's nothin' I didn't deserve, Buffy."

"Like that hell dimension?" She shook her head. "Nobody deserved that, Spike." She looked at the coffee table. "And nobody deserves the kind of treatment you've been getting from me."

Spike remained quiet. He didn't know what to say.

Buffy took his hand. "Will you forgive me?" she asked.

"What?" Spike jumped to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Spike. Really, I am." She looked like she might cry. "Please?"

"You want ME to forgive YOU?" Spike asked, incredulously. "I'm the evil one here, Slayer, I should be the one asking for forgiveness, not you."

"Please," she persisted.

Spike continued to be appalled. "For what? Saying some unpleasant things to me? Telling me the truth?" He shook his head.

"No, Spike, for not being your friend like I should have been. For not trusting you when you've proven time and again that you can be trusted." She was sobbing now. "For being unbelievably cruel when all you wanted was my affection. . . ."

"Buffy. . . ." A crying slayer was not something he could deal with. It made him soppy and weak, wanting to cuddle her and tell her everything would be fine, that things weren't as bad as all that. He had an irritating, very un-evil urge to rush out and pick wildflowers and lay them at her feet, possibly humming Dean Martin tunes in the process. Bloody hell. He'd become a complete ponce. He shook his head. Might as well go the distance, then.

"Buffy," he said, kneeling in front of her. He took her hands. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't cry."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay, Buffy," he said, opening his eyes.

She leaned forward and hugged him. He couldn't believe his good fortune. He returned the embrace, squeezing her gently, but with a quiet desperation, knowing he'd never have another moment like it.

After a minute, Buffy pulled away and Spike reluctantly let her go.

"Friends?" she asked.

Spike nodded. "Yeah," he said, huskily, "friends."

"Good," she said, wiping her eyes. "Because, we kind of . . . have a . . . well . . . a date."

Spike gaped at her.

"It might actually be a double date." She rolled her eyes. "I may have to do some slaying between the hors d'oeuvres and the main course, but. . . ."

The End


End file.
